
THE 

OREGO 
TRAIL 

FRANCIS PARKMAN 



mamett 




Class 



CoEyriglitN?. 



CiiEffilGHT DEPOSIT. 



THE 

OREGON TRAIL 

SKETCHES OF PRAIRIE AND ROCKY 
MOUNTAIN LIFE 

BY 

FRANCIS PARKMAN, Jr. 



WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY 

MARION G. EATON 



EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY 

BOSTON 

NEW YORK CHICAGO SAN FRANCISCO 



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06^ 



Aj 



Copyright, 191 2 

BY 

EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY 



CI.A330499 



CONTENTS 



Introduction , vn 

I The Frontier i 

II Breaking the Ice lo 

III Fort Leavenworth 22 

IV ''Jumping Off" 26 

V The "Big Blue" 39 

VI The Platte and the Desert . . . -59 

VII The Buffalo 74 

VIII Taking French Leave 92 

IX Scenes at Fort Lararhe no 

X The War-Parties 128 

XI Scenes at the Camp i53 

XII Ill-luck i75 

XIII Hunting Indians 183 

XIV The Ogallallah Village 210 

XV The Hunting Camp 234 

XVI The Trappers 260 

XVII The Black Hills 271 

XVIII A Mountain Hunt 276 

XIX Passage of the Mountains . . . . 290 

XX The Lonely Journey 3^9 

XXI The Pueblo and Bent's Fort . . .332 

XXII Tete Rouge, the Volunteer . . . .341 

XXIII Indian Alarms 347 

XXIV The Chase 360 

XXV The Buffalo-camp 37^ 

XXVI Down the Arkansas 3^9 

XXVII The Settlements ....-• 409 

Notes 4^1 



The journey which the following narrative describef: 
was undertaken on the writer's part with a view of study- 
ing the manners and character of Indians in their primitive 
state. Although in the chapters which relate to them, he 
has only attempted to sketch those features of their wild 
and picturesque life which fell, in the present instance, 
under his own eye, yet in doing so he has constantly 
aimed to leave an impression of their character correct 
as far as it goes. In justifying his claim to accuracy on 
this point, it is hardly necessary to advert to the representa- 
tions given by poets and novelists, which, for the most 
part, are mere creations of fancy. The Indian is certainly 
entitled to a high rank among savages, but his good 
qualities are not those of an Uncas or an Outalissi. 

The sketches were originally published in the Knicker- 
bocker Magazine, commencing in February, 1847. 

Boston, February i, 1849. 



INTRODUCTION 

Francis Parkman was born in Boston, September i6, 1823, the 
son of the Rev. Francis Parkman, a Unitarian minister, and the grand- 
son of Samuel Parkman, a well-known Boston merchant. His 
ancestors on both sides of the house were of old New England Puritan 
stock, clergymen for many generations back. His mother was a 
descendant of John Cotton. So the boy was naturally of a studious 
nature, fond of his books and his wTiting. But he had in him, too, 
the love of romance and adventure that influenced much of the 
literature of the early nineteenth century and made Sir Walter Scott 
so popular. In Boston Parkman would have little to satisfy this 
desire; there was no mediaeval tradition of knights and tournaments 
or robber chieftains; the old life of the colony was too near to seem 
anything but commonplace and hard. 

But when Parkman was eight years old, because of ill-health he 
was sent to live with his mother's father in IMedford, a town near 
Boston. His grandfather's farm lay on the edge of a tract of wood- 
land calls the Fells, that was still wild and rough, full of steep hillsides 
and unexpected hollows, just fitted for the "playing of Indian." 
From the first the boy loved the forest and spent all his spare time in 
it, trapping rabbits and trying to hunt with a bow and arrows. His 
pockets are said to have been always filled with little animals, whether 
dead or alive, yet he never had a real pet in all his life. 

At twelve Parkman returned to the city and was sent to a private 
school for boys, where he made unusually good progress in English 
composition. He was greatly interested in chemistry for a time, 
and had a laboratory fitted up in his father's house. He used also 
to play the heroine in theatricals given by a boys' club to which he 
belonged. But there is a record of his borrowing books on the 
Indians even in those days. In his autobiographical letter he says 
that at the age of sixteen, "a new passion seized him," the love of 
the forest. From that time he began to plan how he might best 
unite that love to his love of writing. 

He entered Harvard College in 1840. By the end of his sophomore 
year he had decided on "The French Old War" as a subject. Later 
he enlarged his plan to the history of the American forest and the 
struggle for its possession. Material for such a work had to be 
gained by personal experience of the kind he longed for. 

vn 



VIII INTRODUCTION 

Neither as boy or young man was Parkman physically strong, 
but he was filled with an over-nervous energy that drove him on to 
continual effort. He tried to cure physical weakness by ignoring it 
or trying to overcome it by violent hard exercise. In his college 
vacations he tramped hundreds of miles through the forests of 
Northern New England, New York and Canada, visiting old forts 
and battle grounds, studying the life of Indians and hunters. In 
college he bent all his attention to those studies that would help his 
scheme, reading everything he could find connected with his subject. 
At the beginning of his senior year, after a summer among the Indians 
around Bangor, Maine, he was forced to travel in Europe for his 
health. He spent some days in a Passionist convent at Rome, that 
he might be better fitted to write of the Canadian Jesuit missionaries. 
From Europe he brought away his most vivid impressions of people 
and wild mountain scenery. Lake Como he didn't like so well as 
Lake George, because it was a "finished picture," surrounded by 
houses and gard-ens. 

In 1844 Parkman entered the Harvard Law School, still continuing 
his historical studies, though without saying anything about his 
purpose in them. His eyes were now so weak that everything had to 
be read to him, but still his energy was undiminished. He took 
riding lessons from a circus manager and began the collection of notes 
for his History of Pontiac. 

In the summer of 1846 he set out on the tour of the western plains, 
partly for health but mostly to study the Indian in his wildest state. 
The account of his journey was first published in magazine form the 
following winter as The Oregon Trail, a name intended to catch 
the public eye because of the widespread interest in that newly- 
opened country. For the same reason in 1849 the name "California " 
was added to the title in book form. The hardships of this trip did 
Parkman great physical injury. During 1847 and 1848 he was too 
ill for much literary labor. 

He married in 1850, and in 1851 Pontiac at last appeared, having 
been dictated to his wife and her sister. Trouble with his knee was 
now added to his other ills and kept him at times even from riding 
horseback for exercise. 

His son died in 1857, and in 1858 his wife. For a time insanity 
threatened him close at hand, and he went abroad for treatment. 
It was impossible for him to use his eyes or even concentrate his mind 
on literary labor, yet he managed to hunt through the French archives 
for material and to get many documents copied for later use. 

He came back to Boston the next year no better than before, and 
for several years sought for health by working in his garden at his 
summer home on the shores of Jamaica Pond. He worked at horti- 



INTRODUCTION K 

culture as hard as at anything else, and became an authority on 
roses of which he was said to have owned one thousand varieties. 
In 1866 he wrote The Book 0} Roses. In 1871-2 he was for a time a 
professor of horticulture at Harvard, lecturing twice a week on flowers. 
Meanwhile, in 1865, The Pioneers came out In 1866 he made 
another but less strenuous trip to Canada and the West. 1868 was 
another year of terrible suffering and absolute idleness was enforced 
on Parkman. He went to Paris for the winter, where he got a little 
better enough so as to make more researches in the spring of 1869 
and get his LaSalle pubhshed. In 1872-3 he travelled again in 
Europe and lived in Canada for some weeks among the French 
families still residing along the shores of the St. Lawrence and in 
Montreal and Quebec. The result of these years was The Old 
Regime in Canada. In 1877 came Fronhac reckoned the most 
careful and finished of all Parkman's books. Montcalm and Wolfe 
was published in 1844 and A Half-century of Conflict in 1892. 

On November 8, 1893, Parkman died at his home m Jamaica 
Plain, after a sudden bad attack of illness, following a summer that 
had been fairly free from pain and sickness. 

The high place that Francis Parkman holds among the famous 
group of American historians will be more and more sure as the 
importance of his chosen field of history in its bearing on the present 
life of North America becomes generally recognized. At the time 
it does not appear that Parkman himself realized this importance. 
He was not a philosophic historian, neither was he merely a laborious 
collector of facts. His one aim was to draw a vivid picture ot the o d 
American forest, to bring to life in his pages that strange, dark struggle 
of European civilization with the barbarous Indian civilization that 
had survived from the Stone Age with little change: two forces 
fiehting for a continent, utterly incomprehensible to each other, 
striving for utterly opposed ideals of life, and of these two forces 
one divided against itself, the French and English each starting to 
conquer in a different way for a different purpose, each capable ot 
making a different country out of the forest. But it was the romance 
and strangeness of the fight that appealed to Parkman, and its back- 
ground of wild, hard life he craved for himself. 

As a result, though we know his facts are all carefully verihed, 
involving much expense and hated labor in copying old records, 
there is nothing dry or dull about his history. They seem at times 
almost as much the account of eye-witnesses as do the scenes in Ihe 
Oregon Trail, just as full of action, and consequently, of hte. 
The descriptions of people are as vivid as those of happenings. But 
thev are just as much objective description. That is, Parkman tells 
what a person did, not what he might have thought, and he describes 



X INTRODUCTION 

him just as he actually looked to others. This objective description 
gives some reason for the statement that Parkman was not quite 
fair to the Indian. He describes their customs and doings in a fairly 
impartial manner, but he doesn't understand, or teach his readers to, 
that the Indian was acting on principles of honor very different from 
the white man's. 

The strength and vividness of Parkman's work is the more wonder- 
ful when we remember the conditions under which he wrote. His 
nervous nature craved hard, steady work, physical and mental. Yet 
all his life after college he could use neither brain nor body freely. 
He wanted his work to be one complete History oj the Forest, and 
he had to write it in disconnected parts, dwelling on the most im- 
portant eras. At times he could write, or rather dictate, but six Hues 
a day. Practically all the material for his notes had to be read 
aloud to him and the most of that material was in old-fashioned or 
bad French. For years he could concentrate his thoughts but for 
a minute at a time, then he would rest a minute and work another 
minute. Steady effort meant always possible insanity, and all the 
time physical weakness and pain forbade him the bodily exercise he 
loved. But the spirit in his books is active and healthy, rejoicing 
always in bravery and a good fight. 

In the biography written by Charles H. Famham is the following 
description of him: 

"Parkman was a little above medium height, of an erect, well- 
built frame, with square shoulders and good muscular development, 
but spare and sinewy in habit. Only in his last year or two did he 
allow himself to grow stout, following his physician's recommendation 
in the hope of thus becoming less nervous and sleepless. On horse - 
Imck, especially, he was a dashing and martial figure. He had dark 
hair, and a wholesome color quite foreign to the traditional pallor 
of the student. His head and features were somewhat angular, with 
a chin of most exceptional prominence and strength. His gray 
penetrating eyes were, in youth, of good size, but in later years they 
seemed smaller because of chronic inflammation of the lids. . . . 
His thin face, always smooth -shaven, generally wore a grave, thought- 
ful expression, but frank and friendly; strength and alertness com- 
bined with kindliness to give it distinction. His mouth, though 
expressive chiefly of inflexible firmness, was very mobile. His smile 
was often remarked for its expressiveness; it reminded me always 
of these traits of Morton: 'the heroic calm, the mind tranquil with 
consciousness of power.' Parkman's smile expressed a full con- 
sciousness of his strength and victory in life; and it often had a very 
clear address to you by the penetrating look he sent for ^ moment 
into your eyes, " 



THE CALIFORNIA AND 
OREGON TRAIL 



CHAPTER I 

THE FRONTIER 

"Away, away from men and towns 
To the silent wilderness. " — Shelley 

Last spring, 1846, was a busy season in the city 
of St. Louis. Not only were emigrants from every 
5 part of the country preparing for the journey to 
Oregon and Cahfornia, but an unusual number of 
traders were making ready their wagons and outfits 
for Santa Fe. Many of the emigrants, especially 
of those bound for California, were persons of wealth 

10 and standing. The hotels were crowded, and the 
gunsmiths and saddlers were kept constantly at work 
in providing arms and equipments for the different 
parties of travellers. Almost every day steamboats 
were leaving the levee and passing up the Missouri, 

1 5 crowded with passengers on their way to the frontier. 

In one of these, the Radnor, since snagged and 

lost, my friend and relative, Quincy A. Shaw, and 

myself, left St. Louis on the twenty-eighth of April, 

on a tour of curiosity and amusement to the Rocky 

20 Mountains. The boat was loaded until the water 
broke alternately over her guards. Her upper deck 
was covered with large wagons of a peculiar form, for 



2 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the Santa Fe trade, and her hold was crammed with 
goods for the same destination. There were also the 

2 5 equipments and provisions of a party of Oregon emi- 
grants, a band of mules and horses, piles of saddles 
and harness, and a multitude of nondescript articles, 
indispensable on the prairies. Almost hidden in this 
medley one might have seen a small French cart, of 

30 the sort very appropriately called a *' mule-killer" 
beyond the frontiers, and not far distant a tent, to- 
gether with a miscellaneous assortment of boxes and 
barrels. The whole equipage was far from prepossess- 
ing in its appearance; yet, such as it was, it was des- 

3Stined to a long and arduous journey, on which the 
perse ering reader will accompany it. 

The passengers on board the Radnor corresponded 
with her freight. In her cabin were Santa Fe traders, 
gamblers, speculators, and adventurers of various 

40 descriptions, and her steerage was crowded with 
Oregon emigrants, "mountain men," negroes, and 
a party of Kansas Indians, who had been on a visit 
to St. Louis. 

Thus laden, the boat struggled upward for seven or 

4 5 eight days against the rapid current of the Missouri, 
grating upon snags, and hanging for two or three 
hours at a time upon sand-bars. We entered the 
mouth of the Missouri in a drizzling rain, but the 
weather soon became clear and showed distinctly 

50 the broad and turbid river, with its eddies, its sand- 
bars, its ragged islands, and forest-covered shores. 
The Missouri is constantly changing its course; wear- 
ing away its banks on one side, while it forms new ones 
on the other. Its channel is shifting continually. 

55 Islands are formed, and then washed away; and while 
the old forests on one side are undermined and swept 
off, a young growth springs up from the new soil upon 
the other. With all these changes, the water is so 



THE OREGON TRAIL 3 

charged with mud and sand that it is perfectly opaque, 
60 and in a few minutes deposits a sediment an inch thick 
in the bottom of a tumbler. The river was now high; 
but when we descended in the autumn it was fallen 
very low, and all the secrets of its treacherous shallows 
were exposed to view. It was frightful to see the dead 

6 5 and broken trees, thick-set as a military abatis, firmly 

imbedded in the sand, and all pointing down stream, 
ready to impale any unhappy steamboat that at high 
water should pass over that dangerous ground. 

In five or six days we began to see signs of the 
70 great western movement that was then taking place. 
Parties of emigrants, with their tents and wagons, 
would be encamped on open spots near the bank, on 
their way to the common rendezvous at Independence. 
On a rainy day, near sunset, we reached the landing 

7 5 of this place, which is situated some miles from the 

river, on the extreme frontier of Missouri. The scene 
was characteristic, for here were represented at one 
view the most remarkable features of this wild and 
enterprising region. On the muddy shore stood some 
80 thirty or forty dark slavish-looking Spaniards gazing 
stupidly out from beneath their broad hats. They 
were attached to one of the Santa Fe companies, whose 
wagons were crowded together on the banks above. 
In the midst of these, crouching over a smouldering 

8 5 fire, was a group of Indians belonging to a remote 

Mexican tribe. One or two French hunters from 
the mountains, with their long hair and buckskin 
dresses, were looking at the boat; and seated on a 
log close at hand were three men with rifles lying across 
90 their knees. The foremost of these, a tall, strong 
figure with a clear blue eye and an open, intelligent 
face, might very well represent that race of restless 
and intrepid pioneers whose axes and rifles have opened 
a path from the AUeghanies to the western prairies. 



4 THE OREGON TRAIL 

9 5 He was on his way to Oregon, probably a more con- 
genial field to him than any that now remained on this 
side the great plains. 

Early on the next morning we reached Kansas, 
about five hundred miles from the mouth of the 

loo Missouri. Here we landed, and leaving our equip- 
ments in charge of my good friend. Colonel Chick, 
whose log-house was the substitute for a tavern, we 
set out in a wagon for Westport, where we hoped to 
procure mules and horses for the journey. 

105 It was a remarkably fresh and beautiful May morn- 
ing. The rich and luxuriant woods through which 
the miserable road conducted us were lighted by the 
bright sunshine and enlivened by a multitude of birds. 
We overtook on the way our late fellow-travellers, the 

1 10 Kansas Indians, who, adorned with all their finery, 
were proceeding homeward at a round pace, and what- 
ever they might have seemed on board the boat, they 
made a very striking and picturesque feature in the 
forest landscape. 

115 Westport was full of Indians, whose little shaggy 
ponies were tied by dozens along the houses and 
fences. Sacs and Foxes, with shaved heads and 
painted faces, Shawanoes and Delawares, fluttering 
in calico frocks and turbans, Wyandots, dressed like 

1 20 white men, and a few wretched Kansas, wrapped 
in old blankets, were strolling about the streets or 
lounging in and out of the shops and houses. 

As I stood at the door of the tavern, I saw a re- 
markable looking person coming up the street. He 

125 had a ruddy face, garnished with the stumps of a 
bristly red beard and moustache; on one side of 
his head was a round cap with a knob at the top, 
such as Scottish laborers sometimes wear; his coat 
was of a nondescript form, and made of a gray Scotch 

1 30 plaid, with the fringes hanging all about it; he wore 



THE OREGON TRAIL 5 

pantaloons of coarse homespun and hob-nailed shoes; 
and to complete his equipment, a little black pipe was 
stuck in one corner of his mouth. In this curious 
attire, I recognized Captain C. of the British army, 

1 35 who, with his brother and Mr. R., an English gentle- 
man, was bound on a hunting expedition across the 
continent. I had seen the Captain and his compan- 
ions at St. Louis. They had now been for some time 
at Westport, making preparations for their departure, 

1 40 and waiting for a reinforcement, since they were too 
few in number to attempt it alone. They might, it 
is true, have joined some of the parties of emigrants 
who were on the point of setting out for Oregon and 
California; but they professed great disinclination to 

145 have any connection with the "Kentucky fellows." 
The Captain now urged it upon us that we should 
join forces and proceed to the mountains in com- 
pany. Feeling no greater partiality for the society 
of the emigrants than they did, we thought the ar- 

isorangement an advantageous one, and consented 
to it. Our future fellow-travellers had installed 
themselves in a little log-house, where we found 
them all surrounded by saddles, harness, guns, pistols, 
telescopes, knives, and in short, their complete 

^ 5 5 appointments for the prairie. R., who professed 
a taste for natural history, sat at a table stuffing a 
woodpecker; the brother of the Captain, who was 
an Irishman, was splicing a trail-rope on the floor, as 
he had been an amateur sailor. The Captain pointed 

1 60 out, with much complacency, the different articles of 
their outfit. "You see," said he, "that we are all 
old travellers. I am convinced that no party ever 
went upon the prairie better provided." The hunter 
whom they had employed, a surly looking Canadian, 

165 named Sorel, and their muleteer, an American from St. 
Louis, were lounging about the building. In a little 



6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

log-stable close at hand were their horses and mules, 
selected by the Captain, who was an excellent 
judge. 

The alliance entered into, we left them to com- 

i7oplete their arrangements, while we pushed our own 
to all convenient speed. The emigrants, for whom 
our friends professed s.uch contempt, were encamped 
on the prairie about eight or ten miles distant to the 
number of a thousand or more, and new parties 

1 75 were constantly passing out from Independence to 
join them. They were in great confusion, holding 
meetings, passing resolutions, and drawing up regu- 
lations, but unable to unite in the choice of leaders 
to conduct them across the prairie. Being at leisure 

180 one day, I rode over to Independence. The town 
was crowded. A multitude of shops had sprung up 
to furnish the emigrants and Santa Fe traders with 
necessaries for their journey; and there was an in- 
cessant hammering and banging from a dozen black- 

185 smith's sheds, where the heavy wagons were being 
repaired and the horses and oxen shod. The streets 
were thronged with men, horses, and mules. While 
I was in the town, a train of emigrant wagons from 
Illinois passed through, to join the camp on the 

190 prairie, and stopped in the principal street. A multi- 
tude of healthy children's faces were peeping out from 
under the covers of the wagons. Her and there a 
buxom damsel was seated on horseback, holding over 
her sunburnt face an old umbrella or a parasol, once 

195 gaudy enough, but now miserably faded. The men, 
very sober-looking countrymen, stood about their 
oxen; and as I passed I noticed three old fellows 
who, with their long whips in their hands, were 
zealously discussing the doctrine of regeneration. 

200 The emigrants, however, are not all of this stamp. 
Among them are some of the vilest outcasts in the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 7 

country. I have often perplexed myself to divine the 
various motives that give impulse to this strange mi- 
gration; but whatever they may be, whether an in- 

205 sane hope of a better condition in life, or a desire of 
shaking off restraint of law and society, or mere restless- 
ness, certain it is that multitudes bitterly repent the 
journey, and after they have reached the land of 
promise, are happy enough to escape from it. 

2 r o In the course of seven or eight days we had brought 
our preparations near to a close. Meanwhile our 
friends had completed theirs, and becoming tired of 
Westport, they told us that they would set out in ad- 
vance, and wait at the crossing of the Kansas till we 

215 should come up. Accordingly R. and the muleteer 
went forward with the wagon and tent, while the Cap- 
tain and his brother, together with Sorel and a trapper 
named Boisverd, who had joined them, followed with 
the band of horses. The commencement of the 

2 20 journey was ominous, for the Captain was scarcely 
a mile from Westport, riding along in state at the head 
of this pary, leading his intended buffalo horse by a 
rope, when a tremendous thunder-storm came on, 
and drenched them all to the skin. They hurried on 

225 to reach the place about seven miles off, where R. 
was to have had the camp in readiness to receive them. 
But this prudent person, when he saw the storm ap- 
proaching, had selected a sheltered glade in the woods, 
where he pitched his tent, and was sipping a com- 

2 3ofortable cup of coffee while the Captain galloped for 
miles beyond through the rain to look for him. At 
length the storm cleared away, and the sharp-eyed 
trapper succeeded in discovering his tent; R. had by 
this time finished his coffee and was seated on a buffalo- 

235 robe smoking his pipe. The Captain was one of the 
most easy-tempered men in existence, so he bore his 
ill-luck with great composure, shared the dregs of the 



8 THE OREGON TRAIL 

coffee with his brother, and lay down to sleep in his 
wet clothes. 

240 We ourselves had our share of the deluge. We 
were leading a pair of mules to Kansas when the 
storm broke. Such sharp and incessant flashes of 
lightning, such stunning and continuous thunder, I 
had never known before. The woods were com- 

245pletely obscured by the diagonal sheets of rain that 
fell with a heavy roar, and rose in spray from the 
ground; and the streams rose so rapidly that we 
could hardly ford them. At length, looming through 
the rain, we saw the log-house of Colonel Chick, who 

250 received us with his usual bland hospitality; while his 
wife, who, though a little soured and stiffened by too 
frequent attendance on camp-meetings, was not be- 
hind him in hospitable feeling, supplied us with the 
means of repairing our drenched and bedraggled con- 

255dition. The storm clearing away at about sunset, 
opened a noble prospect from the porch of the colonel's 
house, which stands upon a high hill. The sun 
streamed from the breaking clouds upon the swift 
and angry Missouri, and on the immense expanse of 

2 60 luxuriant forest that stretched from its banks back 
to the distant bluffs. 

Returning on the next day to Westport, we re- 
ceived a message from the Captain, who had ridden 
back to deliver it in person, but finding that we were 

265 in Kansas, had intrusted it with an acquaintance of his 
named Vogel, who kept a small grocery and liquor 
shop. Whiskey, by the way, circulates more freely in 
Westport than is altogether safe in a place where every 
man carries a loaded pistol in his pocke . As we 

2 70 passed this establishment, we saw Vogel's broad Ger- 
man face and knavish-looking eyes thrust from his 
door. He said he had something to tell us, and in- 
vited us to take a dram. Neither his liquor nor his 



THE OREGON TRAIL 9 

message was very palatable. The Captain had re- 

275 turned to give us notice that R., who assumed the direc- 
tion of his party, had determined upon another route 
from that agreed upon between us; and instead of 
taking the course of the traders, to pass northward by 
Fort Leavenworth, and follow the path marked out by 

2 80 the dragoons in their expedition of last summer. To 
adopt such a plan without consulting us we looked 
upon as a very high-handed proceeding; but, suppress- 
ing our dissatisfaction as well as we could, we made 
up our minds to join them at Fort Leavenworth, where 

285 they were to wait for us. 

Accordingly our preparations being now com- 
plete, we attempted one fine morning to commence 
our journey. The first step was an unfortunate one. 
No sooner were our animals put in harness than the 

2 90 shaft-mule reared and plunged, burst ropes and 
straps, and nearly flung the cart into the Missouri. 
Finding her wholly uncontrollable, we exchanged 
her for another, with w^iich we wxre furnished by our 
friend Mr. Boone of Westport, a grandson of Daniel 

205 Boone, the pioneer. This foretaste of prairie experi- 
ence was very soon followed by another. Westport 
was scarcely out of sight when we encountered a deep 
muddy gully, of a species that afterward became but 
too familiar to us ; and here, for the space of an hour 

300 or more, the cart stuck fast. 



CHAPTER II 

BREAKING THE ICE 

"Though sluggards deem it but a foolish chase, 
And marvel men should quit their easy chair, 
The weary way and long, long league to trace; 
Oh there is sweetness in the prairie air, 
5 And life that bloated ease can never hope to share." 

— Childe Harold' 

Both Shaw and myself were tolerably inured to 
the vicissitudes of travelling. We had experienced 
them under various forms, and a birch canoe was as 
familiar to us as a steamboat. The restlessness, the 

1 o love of wilds and hatred of cities, natural perhaps in 

early years to every unperverted son of Adam, was 
not our only motive for undertaking the present jour- 
ney. My companion hoped to shake off the effects 
of a disorder that had impaired a constitution origi- 

isnally hardy and robust; and I was anxious to pursue 
some inquiries relative to the character and usages 
of the remote Indian nations, being already familiar 
with many of the border tribes. 

Emerging from the mud -hole where we last took 

2 cleave of the reader, we pursued our way for some 
time along the narrow track, in the checkered sun- 
shine and shadow of the woods, till at length, issuing 
forth into the broad light, we left behind us the far- 
thest outskirts of that great forest that once spread 

2 5 unbroken from the western plains to the shore of 

the Atlantic. Looking over an intervening belt of 

shrubbery we saw the green, ocean-like expanse 

of prairie, stretching swell over swell to the horizon. 

It was a mild, calm spring day; a day when one 



THE OREGON TRAIL ii 

30 is more disposed to musing and reverie than to action, 
and the softest part of his nature is apt to gain the as- 
cendency. I rode in advance of the party as we 
passed through the shrubbery and as a nook of green 
grass offered a strong temptation, I dismounted and 

3 5 lay down there. All the trees and saplings were in 

flower, or budding into fresh leaf; the red clusters of 
the maple-blossoms and the rich flowers of the Indian 
apple were there in profusion ; and I was half inclined 
to regret leaving behind the land of gardens, for the 
40 rude and stern scenes of the prairie and the moun- 
tains. 

Meanwhile the party came in sight from out of the 
bushes. Foremost rode Henry Chatillon, our guide 
and hunter, a fine athletic figure, mounted on a hardy 

4 5 gray Wyandot pony. He wore a white blanket-coat, 

a broad hat of felt, moccasins, and pantaloons of deer- 
skin, ornamented along the seams with rows of long 
fringes. His knife was stuck in his belt; his bullet- 
pouch and powder-horn hung at his side, and his rifle 
50 lay before him, resting against the high pommel of his 
saddle, which, like all his equipments, had seen hard 
service, and was much the worse for wear. Shaw 
followed close, mounted on a little sorrel horse, and 
leading a larger animal by a rope. His outfit, which 

5 5 resembled mine, had been provided with a view to use 

rather than ornament. It consisted of a plain, black 
Spanish saddle, with holsters of heavy pistols, a blanket 
rolled up behind it, and the trail-rope attached to his 
horse's neck hanging coiled in front. He carried a 

60 double-barrelled smcoth-bore, while I boasted a rifle 
of some fifteen pounds' weight. At that time our attire, 
though far from elegant, bore some marks of civilization, 
and offered a very favorable contrast to the inimitable 
shabbincss of our appearance on the return journey. 

65 A red flannel shirt, belted around the waist like a frock, 



12 THE OREGON TRAIL 

then constituted our upper garment; moccasins had 
supplanted our failing boots; and the remaining 
essential portion of our attire consisted of an extra- 
ordinary article, manufactured by a squaw out of 

70 smoked buckskin. Our muleteer, Delorier, brought 
up the rear with his cart, wading ankle-deep in the 
mud, alternately puffing at his pipe, and ejaculating 
in his prairie patois: ^ Sacre en j ant de garcef^ as one 
of the mules would seem to recoil before some abyss 

7 5 of unusual profundity. The cart was of the kind 
that one may see by scores around the market-place 
in Montreal, and had a white covering to protect 
the articles within. These were our provisions and 
a tent, with ammunition, blankets, and presents for 

80 the Indians. 

We were in all four men with eight animals; for 
besides the spare horses led by Shaw and myself, an 
additional mule was driven along with us as a reserve 
in case of accident. 

85 After this summing up of our forces, it may not 
be amiss to glance at the characters of the two men 
who accompanied us. 

Delorier was a Canadian, with all the characteristics 
of the true Jean Baptiste. Neither fatigue, exposure, 

90 nor hard labor could ever impair his cheerfulness and 
gayety, or his obsequious politeness to his bourgeois; 
and when night came he would sit down by the fire, 
smoke his pipe, and tell stories with the utmost content- 
ment. In fact, the prairie was his congenial element. 

9 5 Henry Chatillon was of a different stamp. When 
we were at St. Louis, several of the gentlemen of the 
Fur Company had kindly offered to procure for us a 
hunter and guide suited for our purposes, and on com- 
ing one afternoon to the office, we found there a tall 
100 and exceedingly well-dressed man, with a face so 
open and frank that it attracted our notice at once. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 13 

We were surprised at being told that it was he who 
wished to guide us to the mountains. He was born 
in a Httle French town near St. Louis, and from the 

105 age of fifteen years had been constantly in the neigh 
borhood of the Rocky Mountains, employed for 
the most part by the company, to supply their forts 
with buffalo-meat. As a hunter, he had but one 
rival in the whole region, a man named Cimoneau, 

1 10 with whom, to the honor of both of them, he was on 
terms of the closest friendship. He had arrived 
at St. Louis the day before from the mountains, where 
he had remained for four years; and he now only 
asked to go and spend a day with his mother before 

1 15 setting out on another expedition. His age was about 
thirty; he was six feet high, and very powerfully and 
gracefully moulded. The prairies had been his school; 
he could neither read nor write, but he had a natural 
refinement and delicacy of mind, such as is very rarely 

1 20 found even in women. His manly face was a perfect 
mirror of uprightness, simplicity, and kindness of heart ; 
he had, moreover, a keen perception of character, 
and a tact that would preserve him from flagrant error 
in any society. Henry had not the restless energy 

125 of an Anglo-American. He was content to take things 
as he found them; and his chief fault arose from an 
excess of easy generosity impelling him to give away too 
profusely ever to thrive in the world. Yet it was com- 
monly remarked of him that whatever he might choose 

1 30 to do with what belonged to himself, the property of 
others was always safe in his hands. His bravery was as 
much celebrated in the mountains as his skill in hunting; 
but it is characteristic of him that in a country where 
the rille is the chief arbiter between man and man, 

135 Henry was very seldom involved in quarrels. Once or 
twice, indeed, his quiet good nature had been mis- 
taken and presumed upon, but the consequences cf 



14 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the error were so formidable that no one was ever 
known to repeat it. No better evidence of the in- 

i4otrepidity of his temper could be wished than the 
common report that he had killed more than thirty 
grizzly bears. He was a proof of what unaided nature 
will sometimes do. I have never in the city or in 
the wilderness, met a better man than my noble and 

1 45 true-hearted friend, Henry Chatillon. 

We were soon free of the woods and bushes, and 
fairly upon the broad prairie. Now and then a 
Shawanoe passed us, riding his little shaggy pony 
at a ''lope," his calico shirt, his gaudy sash, and 

1 50 the gay handkerchief bound around his snaky hair, 
fluttering in the wind. At noon we stopped to rest 
not far from a little creek replete with frogs and 
young turtles. There had been an Indian encamp- 
ment at the place, and the framework of their lodges 

155 still remained, enabling us very easily to gain a shelter 
from the sun by merely spreading one of two blankets 
over them. Thus shaded, we sat upon our saddles, 
and Shaw for the first time lighted his favorite Indian 
pipe: while Delorier was squatted over a hot bed of 

1 60 coals; shading his eyes with one hand, and holding a 
little stick in the other with which he regulated the 
hissing contents of the frying-pan. The horses were 
turned to feed among the scattered bushes of a low, 
oozy meadow. A drowsy spring-like sultriness per- 

i65vaded the air, and the voices of ten thousand young 
frogs and insects, just awakened into life, rose in varied 
chorus from the creek and the meadows. 

Scarcely were we seated when a visitor approached. 
This was an old Kansas Indian; a man of distinction 

1 70 if one might judge from his dress. His head was 
shaved and painted red, and from the tuft of hair re- 
maining on the crown dangled several eagle's feathers, 
and the tails of two or three rattlesnakes. His cheeks, 



THE OREGON TRAIL 15 

too, were daubed with vermilion; his ears were 

1 75 adorned with green glass pendants; a collar of grizzly 
bears' claws surrounded his neck, and several large 
necklaces of wampum hung on his breast. Having 
shaken us by the hand with a cordial grunt of saluta- 
tion, the old man, dropping his red blanket from his 

1 80 shoulders, sat down cross-legged on the ground. In 
the absence of liquor, we offered him a cup of sweet- 
ened water, at which he ejaculated ''Good!" and 
was beginning to tell us how great a man he was 
and how many Pawnees he had killed, when sud- 

iSsdenly a motley concourse appeared wading across 
the creek toward us. They filed past in rapid suc- 
cession men, women, and children; some were on 
horseback, some on foot, but all were alike squalid 
and wretched. Old squaws, mounted astride of 

190 shaggy, meagre little ponies, with perhaps one or 
two snake-eyed children seated behind them, clinging 
to their tattered blankets; tall, lank young men on 
foot, with bows and arrows in their hands; and 
girls whose native ugliness not all the charms of glass 

195 beads and scarlet-cloth could disguise, made up the 
procession; although here and there was a man who, 
like our visitor, seemed to hold some rank in this re- 
spectable community. They were the dregs of the 
Kansas nation, who, while their betters were gone to 

200 hunt the buffalo, had left the village on a begging ex- 
pedition to Westport. 

When this ragamuffin horde had passed, we caught 
our horses, saddled, harnessed, and resumed our jour- 
ney. Fording the creek, the low roofs of a number 

205 of rude buildings appeared, rising from a cluster of 
groves and woods on the left; and riding up through 
a long lane, amid a profusion of wild roses and early 
spring flowers, we found the log-church and school- 
houses belonging to the Methodist Shawanoe Mission. 



i6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

2ioThe Indians were on the point of gathering to a re- 
ligious meeting. Some scores of them, tall men in 
half-civihzed dress, were seated on wooden benches 
under the trees; while their horses were tied to the 
sheds and fences. Their chief, Parks, a remarkably 

2 15 large and athletic man, was just arrived from West- 
port, where he owns a trading establishment. Besides 
this, he has a fine farm and a considerable number of 
slaves. Indeed the Shawanoes have made greater 
progress in agriculture than any other tribe on the 

2 20 Missouri frontier; and both in appearance and in 
character form a marked contrast to our late acquain- 
tance, the Kansas. 

A few hours' ride brought us to the banks of the 
river Kansas. Traversing the woods that lined it, 

225 and ploughing through the deep sand, we encamped 
not far from the bank, at the Lower Delaware cross- 
ing. Our tent was erected for the first time on a 
meadow close to the woods, and the camp prepara- 
tions being complete, we began to think of supper. 

2 30 An old Delaware woman, of some three hundred 
pounds' weight, sat in the porch of a little log-house, 
close to the water, and a very pretty half-breed girl was 
engaged, under her superintendence, in feeding a large 
flock of turkeys that were fluttering and gobbling about 

235 the door. But no offers of money, or even of tobacco, 
could induce her to part with one of her favorites so 
I took my rifle to see if the woods or the river could 
furnish us anything. A multitude of quails were 
plaintively whistling in the woods and meadows; but 

240 nothing appropriate to the rifle was to be seen, except 
three buzzards, seated on the spectral limbs of an old 
dead sycamore, that thrust itself out over the river from 
the dense, sunny wall of fresh foliage. Their ugly 
heads were drawn down between their shoulders, and 

245 they seemed to luxuriate in the soft sunshine that 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



17 



was pouring from the west. As they offered no epi- 
curean temptations, I refrained from disturbing their 
enjoyment, but contented myself with admiring the 
calm beauty of the sunset, for the river, eddying swiftly 

250 in deep purple shadows between the impending woods, 
formed a wild but tranquillizing scene. 

When I returned to the camp I found Shaw and 
an old Indian seated on the ground in close conference, 
passing the pipe between them. The old man was 

255 explaining that he loved the whites, and had an especial 
partiality for tobacco. Delorier was arranging upon 
the ground our service of tin cups and plates; and as 
other viands were not to be had, he set before us a re- 
past of biscuit and bacon, and a large pot of coffee. 

260 Unsheathing our knives, we attacked it, disposed of 
the greater part, and tossed the residue to the Indian. 
Meanwhile our horses, now hobbled for the first time, 
stood among the trees, with their fore-legs tied to- 
gether, in great disgust and astonishment. They 

265 seemed by no means to relish this foretaste of what was 
before them. Mine, in particular, had conceived a 
mortal aversion to the prairie life. One of them, chris- 
tened Hendrick, an animal, whose strength and hardi- 
hood were his only merits, and who yielded to nothing 

2 70 but the cogent arguments of the whip, looked toward 
us with an indignant countenance, as if he meditated 
avenging his wrongs with a kick. The other, Pontiac, 
a good horse, though of plebeian lineage, stood with 
his head drooping and his mane hanging about his 

275 eyes, with the grieved and sulky air of a lubberly boy 
sent off to school. Poor Pontiac! his forebodings were 
but too just; for when I last heard from him he was 
under the lash of an Ogallallah brave, on a war- party 
against the Crows. 

280 As it grew dark, and the voices of the whippoor- 
wills succeeded the whistle of the quails, we removed 



i8 THE OREGON TRAIL 

our saddles to the tent, to serve as pillows, spread 
our blankets upon the ground, and prepared to bivouac 
for the first time that season. Each man selected the 

285 place in the tent v^hich he was to occupy for the jour- 
ney. To Delorier, however, was assigned the cart, 
into which he could creep in wet weather, and find 
a much better shelter than his bourgeois enjoyed in the 
tent. 

290 The river Kansas at this point forms the boundary- 
line between the country of the Shawanoes and that 
of the Delawares. We crossed it on the following 
day, rafting over our horses and equipage with much 
difficulty, and unloading our cart in order to make 

295 our way up the steep ascent on the farther bank. It 
was a Sunday morning; warm, tranquil, and bright; 
and a perfect stillness reigned over the rough inclosures 
and neglected fields of the Delawares, except the cease- 
less hum and chirruping of myriads of insects. Now 

300 and then an Indian rode past on his way to the meeting- 
house, or, through the dilapidated entrance of some 
shattered log-house, an old woman might be discerned 
enjoying all the luxury of idleness. There was no 
village bell, for the Delawares have none; and yet 

305 upon that forlorn and rude settlement was the same 
spirit of Sabbath repose and tranquillity as in some 
little New England village among the mountains of 
New Hampshire or the Vermont woods. 

Having at present no leisure for such reflections, 

310 we pursued our journey. A military road led from 
this point to Fort Leavenworth, and for many miles 
the farms and cabins of the Delawares were scattered 
at short intervals on either hand. The little rude 
structures of logs, erected usually on the borders of a 

315 tract of woods, made a picturesque feature in the 
landscape. But the scenery needed no foreign aid. 
Nature had done enough for it; and the alternation 



THE OREGON TRAIL 19 

of rich green prairies and groves that stood in clusters, 
or hned the banks of the numerous little streams, had 

320 all the softened and polished beauty of a region that 
has been for centuries under the hand of man. At 
that early season, too, it was in the height of its fresh- 
ness and luxuriance. The woods were flushed with 
the red buds of the maple; there were frequent flower- 

3 2 5 ing shrubs unknown in the east ; and the green swells 
of the prairie were thickly studded with blossoms. 

Encamping near a spring, by the side of a hill, 
we resumed our journey in the morning, and early 
in the afternoon had arrived within a few miles of 

330 Fort Leavenworth. The road crossed a stream 
densely bordered with trees, and running in the 
bottom of a deep woody hollow. We were about to 
descend into it when a wild and confused procession 
appeared, passing through the water below, and 

335 coming up the steep ascent toward us. We stopped 
to let them pass. They were Delawares, just re- 
turned from a hunting expedition. All, both men 
and women, were mounted on horseback, and drove 
along with them a considerable number of pack- 

340 mules, laden with the furs they had taken, together 
with the buffalo-robes, kettles, and other articles of 
their travelling equipment, which, as well as their 
clothing and their weapons, had a worn and dingy 
aspect, as if they had seen hard service of late. At 

345 the rear of the party was an old man, who, as he 
came up, stopped his horse to speak to us. He 
rode a little tough, shaggy pony, with mane and tail 
well-knotted with burs, and a rusty Spanish bit in 
its mouth, to which, by way of reins, was attached 

350 a string of raw hide. His saddle, robbed probably 
from a Mexican, had no covering, being merely a 
tree of the Spanish form, with a piece of grizzly bear's 
skin laid over it, a pair of rude wooden stirrups at- 



26 THE OREGON TRAIL 

tached, and in the absence of girth, a thong of hide 

35 5 passing around the horse's belly. The rider's dark 
features and keen snaky eyes were unequivocally 
Indian. He wore a buckskin frock, which, like his 
fringed leggings, was well polished and blackened by 
grease and long service; and an old handkerchief was 

360 tied around his head. Resting on the saddle before 
him lay his rifle, a weapon in the use of which the 
Delawares are skilful, though, from its weight, the 
distant prairie Indians are too lazy to carry it. 
"Who's your chief?" he immediately inquired. 

365 Henry Chatillon pointed to us. The old Dela- 
ware fixed his eyes intently upon us for a moment, 
and then sententiously remarked : 

"No good! Too young!" With this flattering 
comment he left us, and rode after his people. 

370 This tribe, the Delawares, once the peaceful allies 
of William Penn, the tributaries of the conquering 
Iroquois, are now the most adventurous and dreaded 
warriors upon the prairies. They make war upon 
remote tribes, the very names of which were un- 

375 known to their fathers in their ancient seats in Penn- 
sylvania; and they push these new quarrels with 
true Indian rancor, sending out their little war-parties 
as far as the Rocky Mountains, and into the Mexican 
territories. Their neighbors and former confederates, 

380 the Shawanoes, who are tolerable farmers, are in a 
prosperous condition; but the Delawares dwindle 
every year from the number of men lost in their war- 
like expeditions. 

Soon after leaving this party we saw, stretching 

385 on the right, the forests that follow the course of the 
Missouri, and the deep woody channel through which at 
this point it runs. At a distance in front were the white 
barracks of Fort Leavenworth, just visible through the 
trees upon an eminence above a bend of the river. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 21 

390 x\ wide green meadow, as level as a lake, lay between us 
and the Missouri, and upon this, close to a line of trees 
that bordered a little brook, stood the tent of the Cap- 
tain and his companions, with their horses feeding 
around it ; but they themselves were invisible. Wright, 

39 5 their muleteer, was there, seated on the tongue of the 
wagon, repairing his harness. Boisverd stood clean- 
ing his rifle at the door of the tent, and Sorel lounged 
idly about. On closer examination, however, we 
discovered the Captain's brother. Jack, sitting in the 

400 tent, at his old occupation of splicing trail-ropes. He 
welcomed us in his broad Irish brogue, and said that 
his brother was fishing in the river, and R. gone to 
the garrison. They returned before sunset. Mean- 
while we erected our own tent not far off, and after 

405 supper a council was held, in which it was resolved to 
remain one day at Fort Leavenworth, and on the next 
to bid a final adieu to the frontier; or in the phrase- 
ology of the region, to "jump off." Our deliberations 
were conducted by the ruddy light from a distant swell 

4 1 o of the prairie, where the long-dry grass of last summer 
was on fire. 



CHAPTER III 

FORT LEAVENWORTH 

I've wandered wide and wandered far, 

But never have I met, 
In all this lovely western land, 

A spot more lovely yet. " — Bryant 

5 On the next morning we rode to Fort Leaven- 
worth. Colonel (now General) Kearney, to whom 
I had had the honor of an introduction when at St. 
Louis, was just arrived, and received us at his quar- 
ters with the high-bred courtesy habitual to him. 

1 o Fort Leavenworth is, in fact, no fort, being without 

defensive works, except two block-houses. No rumors 
of war had as yet disturbed its tranquillity. In the 
square grassy area, surrounded by barracks and the 
quarters of the officers, the men were passing and 

1 5 repassing, or lounging among the trees; although not 
many weeks afterward it presented a different scene; 
for here the very offscourings of the frontier were 
congregated, to be marshalled for the expedition against 
Santa Fe. 

20 Passing through the garrison, we rode toward the 
Kickapoo village, five or six miles beyond. The 
path, a rather dubious and uncertain one, led us 
along the ridge of high bluffs that border the Mis- 
souri; and by looking to the right or to the left we 

2 5 could enjoy a strange contrast of opposite scenery. 

On the left stretched the prairie, rising into swells 
and undulations, thickly sprinkled with groves, or 
gracefully expanding into wide grassy basins of 
miles in extent; while its curvatures, swelling against 
22 



THE OREGON TRAIL 23 

30 the horizon, were often surmounted by lines of sunny 
woods; a scene to which the freshness of the season 
and the pecuHar mellowness of the atmosphere gave 
additional softness. Below us, on the right, was a 
tract of ragged and broken woods. We could look 

3 5 down on the summits of the trees, some living and 

some dead ; some erect, others leaning at every angle, 
and others still piled in masses together by the passage 
of a hurricane. Beyond their extreme verge the 
turbid waters of the Missouri were discernible through 
40 the boughs, rolling powerfully along at the foot of the 
woody declivities on its farther bank. 

The path soon after led inland; and as we crossed 
an open nieadow we saw a cluster of buildings on a 
rising ground before us, with a crowd of people sur- 

4 5 rounding them. They were the storehouse, cottage, 

and stables of the Kickapoo trader's establishment. 
Just at that moment, as it chanced, he was beset with 
half the Indians of the settlement. They had tied 
their wretched, neglected little ponies by dozens 
50 along the fences and out-houses, and were either 
lounging about the place or crowding into the trad- 
ing-house. Here were faces of various colors: red, 
green, white, and black, curiously intermingled and 
disposed over the visage in a variety of patterns. 

5 5 Calico shirts, red and blue blankets, brass ear-rings, 

wampum necklaces, appeared in profusion. The 
trader was a blue-eyed, open-faced man, who neither 
in his manners nor his appearance, betrayed any of 
the roughness of the frontier; though just at present 

60 he was obliged to keep a lynx eye on his suspicious 
customers, who, men and women, were climbing on 
his counter and seating themselves among his boxes 
and bales. 

The village itself was not far off, and sufficiently 

65 illustrated the condition of its unfortunate and self- 



^4 THE OREGON TRAIL 

abandoned occupants. Fancy to yourself a little 
swift stream, working its devious way down a woody 
valley; sometimes wholly hidden under logs and 
fallen trees, sometimes issuing forth and spreading 

70 into a broad, clear pool; and on its banks, in little 
nooks cleared away among the trees, miniature log- 
houses in utter ruin and neglect. A labyrinth of 
narrow, obstructed paths connected these habitations 
one with another. Sometimes we met a stray calf, 

75 a pig, or a pony belonging to some of the villagers, 
who usually lay in the sun in front of their dwellings 
and looked on us with cold, suspicious eyes as we 
approached. Farther on, in place of the log-huts 
of the Kickapoos, we found the pukwi lodges of 

80 their neighbors, the Pottawattamies, whose condition 
seemed no better than theirs. 

Growing tired at last, and exhausted by the ex- 
cessive heat and sultriness of the day, we returned 
to our friend, the trader. By this time the crowd 

85 around him had dispersed and left him at leisure. 
He invited us to his cottage, a little white-and-green 
building, in the style of the old French settlements; 
and ushered us into a neat, well-furnished room. 
The blinds were closed, and the heat and glare of 

90 the sun excluded; the room was as cool as a cavern. 
It was neatly carpeted, too, and furnished in a manner 
that we hardly expected on the frontier. The sofas, 
chairs, tables, and a well- filled book-case would not 
have disgraced an eastern city; though there were 

95 one or two little tokens that indicated the rather ques- 
tionable civilization of the region. A pistol, loaded 
and capped, lay on the mantel-piece; and through 
the glass of the book-case, peeping above the works 
of John Milton, glittered the handle of a very mis- 
loochievous-looking knife. 

Our host went out, and returned with iced water, 



THE OREGON TRAIL 25 

glasses, and a bottle of excellent claret; a refresh- 
ment most welcome in the extreme heat of the day; 
and soon after appeared a merry, laughing woman, 

1 05 who must have been, a year or two before, a very 
rich and luxuriant specimen of Creole beauty. She 
came to say that lunch was ready in the next room. 
Our hostess evidently lived on the sunny side of life 
and troubled herself with none of its cares. She 

1 10 sat down and entertained us while we were at table 
with anecdotes of fishing-parties, frolics, and the 
officers at the fort. Taking leave at length of the 
hospitable trader and his friend, we rode back to 
the garrison. 

1 1 5 Shaw passed on to the camp, while I remained to 
call upon Colonel Kearney. I found him still at 
table. There sat our friend the Captain, in the 
same remarkable habiliments in which we saw him 
at Westport; the black pipe, however, being for 

1 20 the present laid inside. He dangled his little cap 
in his hand, and talked of steeple-chases, touching 
occasionally upon his anticipated exploits in buffalo- 
hunting. There, too, was R., somewhat more ele- 
gantly attired. For the last time we tasted the 

125 luxuries of civilization, and drank adieus to it in 
wine good enough to make us almost regret the 
leave-taking. Then, mounting, we rode together 
to the camp, where everything was in readiness for 
departure on the morrow. 



CHAPTER IV 



"jumping off" 

"We forded the river and clomb the high hill, 
Never our steeds for a day stood still; 
Whether we lay in the cave or the shed, 
Our sleep fell soft on the hardest bed; 
5 Whether we couched in our rough capote. 

On the rougher plank of our gliding boat, 
Or stretched on the sand, or our saddles spread 
As a pillow beneath the resting head. 
Fresh we woke upon the morrow; 
lo All our thoughts and words had scope, 

We had health and we had hope. 

Toil and travel, but no sorrow." — Siege of Corinth 

The reader need not be told that John Bull never 
leaves home without encumbering himself ^N\\h the 

1 5 greatest possible load of luggage. Our companions 
were no exception to the rule. They had a wagon 
drawn by six mules, and crammed with provisions 
for six months, besides ammunition enough for a 
regiment; spare rifles and fowling-pieces, ropes and 

20 harness; personal baggage, and a miscellaneous as- 
sortment of articles, which produced infinite em- 
barrassment on the journey. They had also deco- 
rated their persons with telescopes and portable 
compasses, and carried English double-barrelled rifles 

2 5 of sixteen to the pound calibre, slung to their saddles 
dragoon fashion. 

By sunrise on the twenty-third of May we had 
breakfasted; the tents were levelled, the animals 
saddled and harnessed, and all was prepared. '' Avance 

30 done! get up!" cried Delorier from his seat in front of 
the cart. Wright, our friends' muleteer, after some 
26 



THE OREGON TRAIL 27 

swearing and lashing, got his insubordinate train in 
motion, and then the whole party filed from the ground. 
Thus we bade a long adieu to bed and board, and the 

35 principles of Blackstone's Commentaries. The day 
was a most auspicious one; and yet Shaw and I felt 
certain misgivings, which in the sequel proved but too 
well founded. We had just learned that though R. 
had taken it upon him to adopt this course without 

40 consulting us, not a single man in the party was ac- 
quainted with it; and the absurdity of our friend's 
high-handed measure very soon became manifest. 
His plan was to strike the trail of several companies 
of dragoons, who last summer had made an expe- 

4 5dition under Colonel Kearney to Fort Laramie, and 

by this means to reach the grand trail of the Oregon 
emigrants up the Platte. 

We rode for an hour or two, when a familiar cluster 
of buildings appeared on a little hill. "Halloo!" 
50 shouted the Kickapoo trader from over his fence, 
"where are you going?" A few rather emphatic ex- 
clamations might have been heard among us when we 
found that we had gone miles out of our way, and were 
not advanced an inch toward the Rocky Mountains. 

5 5 So we turned in the direction the trader indicated ; 

and, with the sun for a guide, began to trace a "bee- 
line" across the prairies. We struggled through copses 
and lines of wood; we waded brooks and pools of 
water, we traversed prairies as green as an emerald 
60 expanding before us for mile after mile ; wider and more 
wild than the wastes Mazeppa rode over: 

"Man nor brute, 
Nor dint of hoof, nor print of foot, 
Lay in the wild luxuriant soil; 
65 No sign of travel; none of toil; 

The very air was mute. " 

Riding in advance, as we passed over one of these 



28 THE OREGON TRAIL 

great plains, we looked back and saw the line of scat- 
tered horsemen stretching for a mile or more; and 

70 far in the rear, against the horizon, the white wagons 
creeping slowly along. ''Here we are at last!" 
shouted the Captain. And in truth we had struck 
upon the traces of a large body of horse. We turned 
joyfully and followed this new course, with tempers 

7 5 somewhat improved; and toward sunset encamped 
on a high swell of the prairie, at the foot of which a 
lazy stream soaked along through clumps of rank 
grass. It was getting dark. We turned the horses 
loose to feed. "Drive down the tent-pickets hard," 

80 said Henry Chatillon, "it is going to blow." We did 
so, and secured the tent as well as we could; for the 
sky had changed totally and a fresh damp smell in 
the wind warned us that a stormy night was likely to 
succeed the hot, clear day. The prairie also wore a 

85 new aspect, and its vast swells had grown black and 
sombre under the shadow of the clouds. The thunder 
soon began to growl at a distance. Picketing and 
hobbling the horses among the rich grass at the foot 
of the slope where we encamped, we gained a shelter 

90 just as the rain began to fall; and sat at the opening 
of the tent, watching the proceedings of the Captain. 
In defiance of the rain, he was stalking among the 
horses, wrapped in an old Scotch plaid. An ex- 
treme solicitude tormented him, lest some of his 

9 5 favorites should escape or some accident should 
befall them; and he cast an anxious eye toward 
three wolves who were sneaking along over the dreary 
surface of the plain as if he dreaded some hostile 
demonstration on their part. 

100 On the next morning we had gone but a mile or 
two when we came to an extensive belt of woods, 
through the midst of which ran a stream, wide, deep, 
and of an appearance particularly muddy and treacher- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 29 

ous. Delorier was in advance with his cart, he jerked 

105 his pipe from his mouth, lashed his mules, and 
poured forth a volley of Canadian ejaculations. In 
plunged the cart, but midway it stuck fast. Delorier 
leaped out knee-deep in water, and by dint of sacres 
and a vigorous application of the whip, he urged the 

1 10 mules out of the slough. Then approached the long 
team and heavy wagon of our friends ; but it paused on 
the brink. 

"Now my advice is — " began the Captain, who 
had been anxiously contemplating the muddy gulf. 

115 "Drive on!" cried R. 

But Wright, the muleteer, apparently had not as 
yet decided the point in his own mind; and he sat 
still in his seat on one of the shaft-mules, whistling 
in a low contemplative strain to himself. 

120 "My advice is," resumed the Captain, "that we 
unload; for I'll bet any man five pounds that if we 
try to go through we shall stick fast." 

"By the powers, we shall stick fast!" echoed Jack, 
the Captain's brother, shaking his large head with 

125 an air of firm conviction. 

"Drive on! drive on!" cried R., petulantly. 
"Well," observed the Captain, turning to us as 
we sat looking on, much edified by this by-play among 
our confederates, "I can only give my advice, and if 

1 30 people won't be reasonable, why they won't, that's all!" 

Meanwhile, Wright had apparently made up his 

mind ; for he suddenly began to shout forth a volley 

of oaths and curses that, compared with the French 

imprecations of Delorier, sounded like the roaring 

1 35 of hea\y cannon after the popping and sputtering of 
a bunch of Chinese crackers. At the same time he 
discharged a shower of blows upon his mules, who 
hastily dived into the mud and drew the wagon lumber- 
ing after them. For a moment, the issue was dubious. 



30 THE OREGON TRAIL 

1 40 Wright writhed about in his saddle and swore and 
lashed Hke a madman; but who can count on a team 
of half-broken mules? At the most critical point, 
when all should have been harmony and combined 
effort, the perverse brutes fell into lamentable disorder, 

145 and huddled together in confusion on the farther bank. 
There was the wagon up to the hub in mud and visibly 
settling every instant. There was nothing for it but to 
unload; then to dig away the mud from before the 
wheels with a spade, and lay a causeway of bushes 

150 and branches. This agreeable labor accomplished, 
the wagon at length emerged; but if I mention that 
some interruption of this sort occurred at least four or 
five times a day for a fortnight, the reader will under- 
stand that our progress toward the Platte was not 

155 without its obstacles. 

We travelled six or seven miles farther, and ' ' nooned ' ' 
near a brook. On the point of resuming our journey, 
when the horses were all driven down to water, my 
homesick charger Pontiac made a sudden leap across, 

1 60 and set off at a round trot for the settlements. I 
mounted my remaining horse, and started in pursuit. 
Making a circuit, I headed the runaway, hoping to 
drive him back to camp; but he instantly broke into 
a gallop, made a wide tour on the prairie, and got past 

165 me again. I tried this plan repeatedly, with the same 
result. Pontiac was evidently disgusted with the 
prairie; so I abandoned it, and tried another, trotting 
along gently behind him, in hopes that I might quietly 
get near enough to seize the trail-rope which was 

1 70 fastened to his neck, and dragged about a dozen feet 
behind him. The chase grew interesting. For mile 
after mile I followed the rascal, with the utmost care 
not to alarm him, and gradually got nearer, until at 
length old Hendrick's nose was fairly brushed by 

1 75 the whisking tail of the unsuspecting Pontiac. With- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 31 

out drawing rein I slid softly to the ground; but my 
long heavy rifle encumbered me, and the low sound 
it made in striking the horn of the saddle startled 
him; he pricked up his ears, and sprang off at a run, 

180 "My friend," thought I, remounting, "do that again, 
and I will shoot you!" 

Fort Leavenworth was about forty miles distant, 
and thither I determined to follow him. I made up 
my mind to spend a solitary and supperless night, 

185 and then set out again in the morning. One hope, 
however, remained. The creek where the wagon 
had stuck was just before us; Pontiac might be 
thirsty with his run, and stop there to drink. I 
kept as near to him as possible, taking every pre- 

190 caution not to alarm him again; and the result proved 
as I had hoped; for he walked deliberately among the 
trees, and stooped down to the water. I alighted, 
dragged old Hendrick through the mud, and with a 
feeling of infinite satisfaction picked up the slimy 

195 trail-rope, and twisted it three times round my hand. 
"Now let me see you get away again!" I thought, 
as I remounted. But Pontiac was exceedingly re- 
luctant to turn back; Hendrick, too, who had evidently 
flattered himself with vain hopes, showed the utmost 

100 repugnance, and grumbled in a manner peculiar to 
himself at being compelled to face about. A smart 
cut of the whip restored his cheerfulness; and drag- 
ging the recovered truant behind, I set out in search 
of the camp. An hour or two elapsed, when near 

205 sunset, I saw the tents, standing on a rich swell of the 
prairie, beyond a line of woods, while the bands of 
horses were feeding in a low meadow close at hand. 
There sat Jack C, cross-legged, in the sun, splicing 
a trail-rope, and the rest were lying on the grass, smok- 

2ioing and telling stories. That night we enjoyed a 
serenade from the wolves, more lively than any with 



32 THE OREGON TRAIL 

which they had yet favored us; and in the morning 
one of the musicians appeared, not many rods from 
the tents, quietly seated among the horses, looking 

2 1 5 at us with a pair of large gray eyes ; but perceiving 
a rifle levelled at him, he leaped up and made off in 
hot haste. 

I pass by the following day or two of our journey, 
for nothing occurred worthy of record. Should any 

2 2oone of my readers ever be impelled to visit the prairies, 
and should he choose the route of the Platte (the best, 
perhaps, that can be adopted), I can assure him 
that he need not think to enter at once upon the para- 
dise of his imagination. A dreary preliminary, pro- 

225 tract ed crossing of the threshold awaits him before 
he finds himself fairly upon the verge of the ^' great 
American desert"; those barren wastes, the haunts 
of the buffalo and the Indian, where the very shadow 
of civilization lies a hundred leagues behind him. 

2 30 The intervening country, the wide and fertile belt that 
extends for several hundred miles beyond the extreme 
frontier, will probably answer tolerably well to his 
preconceived ideas of the prairie; for this it is from 
which picturesque tourists, painters, poets and nov- 

2 35elists, who have seldom penetrated farther, have de- 
rived their conceptions of the whole region. If he 
has a painter's eye, he may find his period of probation 
not wholly void of interest. The scenery, though 
tame, is graceful and pleasing. Here are level plains 

2 40 too wide for the eye to measure; green undulations 
like motionless swells of the ocean; abundance of 
streams, followed through all their windings by lines 
of woods and scattered groves. But let him be as 
enthusiastic as he may, he will find enough to damp his 

245 ardor. His wagons will stick in the mud ; his horses 
will break loose; harness will give way, and axle- 
trees prove unsound. His bed will be a soft one. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 35 

consisting often of black mud of the richest consistency. 
As for food, he must content himself with biscuit and 

2 50 salt provisions; for, strange as it may seem, this tract 
of country produces very little game. As he advances, 
indeed, he will see, mouldering in the grass by his 
path, the vast antlers of the elk, and farther on, the 
whitened skulls of the buffalo, once swarming over 

255 this now deserted region. Perhaps, like us, he may 
journey for a fortnight, and see not so much as the 
hoof-print of a deer; in the spring not even a prairie- 
hen is to be had. 

Yet, to compensate him for this unlooked-for de- 

2 6oficiency of game, he will find himself beset with "var- 
mints" innumerable. The wolves will entertain him 
with a concerto at night, and skulk around him by 
day just beyond rifle-shot; his horse will step into 
badger-holes; from every marsh and mud-puddle will 

265 arise the bellowing, croaking, and trilling of legions 
of frogs, infinitely various in color, shape, and dimen- 
sions. A profusion of snakes will glide away from 
under his horse's feet or quietly visit him in his tent at 
night ; while the pertinacious humming of unnumbered 

2 70 mosquitoes will banish sleep from his eyelids. When 
thirsty with a long ride in the scorching sun over some 
boundless reach of prairie, he comes at length to a pool 
of water, and alights to drink, he discovers a troop of 
young tadpoles sporting in the bottom of his cup. 

2 75 Add to this that all the morning the sun beats upon 
him with a suUry, penetrating heat, and that, with 
provoking regularity, at about four o'clock in the 
afternoon a thunder-storm rises and drenches him 
to the skin. Such being the charms of this favored 

280 region, the reader will easily conceive the extent of 
our gratification at learning that for a week we had 
been journeying on the wrong track I How this agre^-. 
^h\e discovery was made I will presently explain, 



34 THE OREGON TRAIL 

One day, after a protracted morning's rtde, we 

285 stopped to rest at noon upon the open prairie. No 
trees were in sight; but close at hand a Httle drib- 
bhng brook was twisting, from side to side, through a 
hollow; now forming holes of stagnant water, and 
now gliding over the mud in a scarcely perceptible 

290 current, among a growth of sickly bushes and great 
clumps of tall rank grass. The day was excessively 
hot and oppressive. The horses and mules were 
rolling on the prairie to refresh themselves, or feed- 
ing among the bushes in the hollow. We had dined; 

295 and Delorier, puffing at his pipe, knelt on the grass, 
scrubbing our service of tin-plate. Shaw lay in the 
shade, under the cart, to rest for awhile, before the word 
should be given to ''catch up." Henry Chatillon, be- 
fore lying down, was looking about for signs of snakes, 

300 the only living things that he feared, and uttering vari- 
ous ejaculations of disgust at finding several suspicious- 
looking holes close to the cart. I sat leaning against 
the wheel in a scanty strip of shade, making a pair of 
hobbles to replace those which my contumacious steed 

3o5Pontiac had broken the night before. The camp of 
our friends, a rod or two distant, presented the same 
scene of lazy tranquillity. 

"Halloo ! " cried Henry, looking up from his inspection 
of the snake-holes, "here comes the old Captain!" 

310 The Captain approached, and stood for a moment 
contemplating us in silence. 

"I say, Parkman," he began, "look at Shaw there, 
asleep under the cart, with the tar dripping off the 
hub of the wheel on his shoulder!" 

315 At this Shaw got up, with his eyes half opened, 
and feeling the part indicated, he found his hand 
glued fast to his red flannel shirt. 

"He'll look well, when he gets among the squaws, 
won't he !" observed the Captain, with a grin. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 35 

320 He then crawled under the cart, and began to 
tell stories, of which his stock was inexhaustible. 
Yet every moment he would glance nervously at the 
horses. At last he jumped up in great excitement. 
"See that horse! There — that fellow just walking 

32 5 over the hill! By Jove! he's off. It's your big 
horse, Shaw; no it isn't, it's Jack's. Jack! Jack! 
halloo, Jack!" Jack, thus invoked, jumped up and 
stared vacantly at us. 

"Go and catch your horse, if you don't want to 

3 30 lose him!" roared the Captain. 

Jack instantly set off at a run, through the grass, 
his broad pantaloons flapping about his feet. The 
Captain gazed anxiously till he saw that the horse 
was caught; then he sat down, with a countenance 

33 5 of thoughtfulness and care. 

"I tell you what it is," he said, "this will never 
do at all. We shall lose every horse in the band 
some day or other, and then a pretty plight we should 
be in! Now I am convinced that the only way for us 

340 is to have every man in the camp stand horse-guard 
in rotation whenever we stop. Supposing a hundred 
Pawnees should jump up out of that ravine, all yell- 
ing and flapping their buffalo-robes, in the way they 
do ? Why in two minutes not a hoof would be in sight." 

345 We reminded the Captain that a hundred Pawnees 
would probably demolish the horse-guard if he were 
to resist their depredations. 

"At any rate," pursued the Captain, evading the 
point, "our whole system is wrong; I'm convinced 

3 50 of it; it is totally unmilitary. Why the way we 
travel, strung out over the prairie for a mile, an enemy 
might attack the foremost men and cut them off before 
the rest could come up." 

"We are not in an enemy's country yet," said 

35 5 Shaw; "when we are, we'll travel together." 



36 THE OREGON TRAIL 

"Then," said the Captain, "we might be attacked 
in camp. We've no sentinels; we camp in dis- 
order; no precautions at all to guard against sur- 
prise. My own convictions are that we ought to 

360 camp in a hollow-square, with the fires in the cen- 
tre; and have sentinels and a regular password ap- 
pointed for every night. Beside, there should be 
videttes, riding in advance, to find a place for the 
camp and give warning of an enemy. These are 

365 my convictions. I don't want to dictate to any man. 
I give advice to the best of my judgment, that's all; 
and then let people do as they please." 

We intimated that perhaps it would be as well to 
postpone such burdensome precautions until there 

370 should be some actual need of them; but he shook 
his head dubiously. The Captain's sense of mili- 
tary propriety had been severely shocked by what 
he considered the irregular proceedings of the party; 
and this was not the first time he had expressed him- 

375 self upon the subject. But his convictions seldom 
produced any practical results. In the present case 
he contented himself, as usual, with enlarging on the 
importance of his suggestions and wondering that they 
were not adopted. But his plan of sending out videttes 

380 seemed particularly dear to him, and as no one else 
was disposed to second his views on this point, he 
took it into his head to ride forward that afternoon 
himself. 

"Come, Parkman," said he, "will you go with 

385me?" 

We set out together, and rode a mile or two in 
advance. The Captain, in the course of twenty 
years' service in the British army, had seen some- 
thing of life; one extensive side of it, at least, he 

3Qohad enjoyed the best opportunities for studying; and 
being naturally a pleasant fellow, he was a very 



THE OREGON TRAIL 37 

entertaining companion. He cracked jokes and told 
stories for an hour or two; until, looking back, we 
saw the prairie behind us stretching away to the 

395 horizon without a horseman or a wagon in sight. 

"Now," said the Captain, "I think the videttes 
had better stop till the main body comes up." 

I was of the same opinion. There was a thick 
growth of woods just before. us with a stream running 

4oothrough them. Having crossed this, we found on the 
other side a fine level meadow, half encircled by the 
trees; and fastening cur horses to some bushes, we 
sat down on the grass; while, with an old stump of a 
tree for a target, I began to display the superiority of 

4 05 the renowned rifle of the back woods over the foreign 
innovation borne by the Captain. At length voices 
could be heard in the distance behind the trees. 

"There they come!" said the Captain; "let's 
go and see how they get through the creek." 

410 We mounted and rode to the bank of the stream 
where the trail crossed it. It ran in a deep hollow, 
full of trees; as we looked down we saw a confused 
crowd of horsemen riding through the water; and 
among the dingy habiliments of our party glittered 

4i5the uniforms of four dragoons. 

Shaw came whipping his horse up the bank, in 
advance of the rest, with a somewhat indignant 
countenance. The first word he spoke was a bless- 
ing fervently invoked on the head of R., who was 

420 riding, with a crest-fallen air, in the rear. Thanks 
to the ingenious devices of this gentleman, we had 
missed the track entirely, and wandered, not toward 
the Platte, but to the village of the Iowa Indians. 
This we learned from the dragoons, who had lately 

4 2 5deserted from Fort Leavenworth. They told us that 
our best plan now was to keep to the northward until 
we should strike the trail formed by several parties of 



38 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Oregon emigrants, who haxl that season set out from 
St. Joseph's in Missouri. 

430 In extremely bad temper we encamped on this 
ill-starred spot, while the deserters, whose case ad- 
mitted of no delay, rode rapidly forward. On the 
day following, striking the St. Joseph's trail, we turned 
our horses' heads toward Fort Laramie, then about 

435 seven hundred miles to the westward. 



CHAPTER V 

THE "big blue" 

"A man so various, that he seemed to be 
Not one, but all mankind's epitome. 
Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong. 
Was everything by starts, and nothing long, 
tr But in the space of one revolving moon. 

Was gamester, chemist, fiddler, and buffoon."^ 

The great medley of Oregon and California emi- 
grants, at their camps around Independence, had 
heard reports that several additional parties were on 

lothe point of setting out from St. Joseph's, farther to 
the northward. The prevailing impression was that 
these were Mormons, twenty-three hundred in num- 
ber, and a great alarm was excited in consequence. 
The people of Illinois and Missouri, who composed by 

1 5 far the greater part of the emigrants, have never been 
on the best terms with the ''Latter-day Saints"; and 
it is notorious throughout the country how much blood 
has been spilt in their feuds, even far within the 
limits of the settlements. No one could predict what 

.o would be the result when large armed bodies of 
these fanatics should encounter the most impetuous 
and reckless of their old enemies on the broad prairie, 
far beyond the reach of law or military force. The 
women and children at Independence raised a great 

2 5 outcry; the men themselves were seriously alarmed; 
and, as I learned, they sent to Colonel Kearney, re- 
queuing an escort of dragoons as far as the Platte. 
This was refused; and as the sequel proved there was 
no occasion for it. The St. Joseph's emigrants were 

39 



40 THE OREGON TRAIL 

30 as good Christians and as zealous Mormon- haters as 
the rest; and the very few families of .the "saints" 
who passed out this season by the route of the Platte 
remained behind until the great tide of emigration 
had gone by; standing in quite as much awe of the 

35 ''gentiles" as the latter did of them. 

We were now, as I before mentioned, upon this 
St. Joseph's trail. It was evident by the traces, that 
large parties were a few days in advance of us; and 
as we too supposed them to be Mormons, we had 

40 some apprehension of interruption. 

The journey was somewhat monotonous. One 
day we rode on for hours, without seeing a tree or a 
bush: before, behind, and on either side stretched 
the vast expanse, rolling in a succession of graceful 

45 swells, covered with the unbroken carpet of fresh 
green grass. Here and there a crow, or a raven, or a 
turkey-buzzard relieved the uniformity. 

"What shall we do to-night for wood and water?" 
we began to ask of each other; for the sun was within 

50 an hour of setting. At length a dark green speck ap- 
peared, far off on the right; it was the top of a tree 
peering over a sweD of the prairie; and leaving the 
trail, we made all haste toward it. It proved to be 
the vanguard of a cluster of bushes and low trees, that 

55 surrounded some pools of water in an extensive hollow; 
so we encamped on the rising ground near it. 

Shaw and I were sitting in the tent when Delorier 
thrust his brown face and old felt hat into the open- 
ing, and dilating his eyes to their utmost extent, 

60 announced supper. There were the tin cups and 
the iron spoons arranged in military order on the 
grass, and the coffee-pot predominant in the midst. 
The meal was soon dispatched; but Henry Chatillon 
still sat cross-legged, dallying with the remnant of 

65 his coffee, the beverage in universal use upon the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 41 

prairie, and an especial favorite with him. He 
preferred it in its virgin flavor, unimpaired by sugar 
or cream; and on the present occasion it met his 
entire approval, being exceedingly strong, or as he 

70 expressed it, "right black." 

It was a rich and gorgeous sunset — an American 
sunset; and the ruddy glow of the sky was reflected 
from some extensive pools of water among the shadowy 
copses in the meadow below. 

75 "I must have a bath to-night," said Shaw. "How 
is it, Delorier? Any chance for a swim down there?" 
"Ah! I cannot tell; just as you please, Mon- 
sieur, replied Delorier, shrugging his shoulders, per- 
plexed by his ignorance of English, and extremely 

80 anxious to conform in all respects to the opinions and 
wishes of his bourgeois. 

"Look at his moccasin," said I. It had evidently 
been lately immersed in a profound abyss of black 
mud. 

85 "Come," said Shaw; "at any rate we can see for 
ourselves." 

We set out together; and as we approached the 
bushes, which were at some distance, we found the 
ground becoming rather treacherous. We could 

90 only get along by stepping upon large clumps of 
tall rank grass, with fathomless gulfs between, like 
innumerable little quaking islands in an ocean of 
mud, where a false step would have involved our 
boots in a catastrophe like that which had befallen 

95Delorier's moccasins. The thing looked desperate; 
we separated, so as to search in different directions, 
Shaw going off to the right, while I kept straight 
forward. At last I came to the edge of the bushes: 
they were young water-willows, covered with their 

:oocater]:)illar-like blossoms, but intervening between 
them and the last grass clump was a black and deep 



42 THE OREGON TRAIL 

slough, over which, by a vigorous exertion, I con- 
trived to jump. Then I shouldered my way through 
the willows, trampling them down by main force, till 

105 1 came to a wide stream of water, three inches deep, 
languidly creeping along over a bottom of sleek mud. 
My arrival produced a great commotion. A huge 
green bullfrog uttered an indignant croak, and jumped 
off the bank with a loud splash; his webbed feet 

1 10 twinkled above the surface as he jerked them energeti- 
cally upward, and I could see him ensconcing himself 
in the unresisting slime at the bottom, whence several 
large air-bubbles struggled lazily to the top. Some 
little spotted frogs instantly followed the patriarch's 

1 15 example; and then three turtles, not larger than a 
dollar, tumbled themselves off a broad "lily pad," 
where they had been reposing. At the same time 
a snake, gayly striped with black and yellow, glided 
out from the bank, and writhed across to the other 

120 side; and a small stagnant pool, into which my foot 
had inadvertently pushed a stone, was instantly 
alive with a congregation of black tadpoles. 

"Any chance for a bath, where you are?" called 
out Shaw, from a distance. 

125 The answer was not encouraging. I retreated, 
through the willows, and rejoining my companion 
we proceeded to push our researches in company. 
Not far on the right, a rising ground, covered with 
trees and bushes, seemed to sink down abruptly 

T3oto the water, and give hope of better success; so 
toward this we directed our steps. When we reached 
the place we found it no easy matter to get along be- 
tween the hill and the water, impeded as we were by 
a growth of stiff, obstinate young birch trees, laced 

1 35 together by grape-vines. In the twilight we now and 
then, to support ourselves snatched at the touch-me- 
not stem of some ancient sweet-brier. Shaw, who was 



THE OREGON TRAIL 43 



in advance, suddenly uttered a somewhat emphatic 
monosyllable; and, looking up, I saw him with one 
1 40 hand grasping a sapling and one foot immersed in the 
water, from which he had forgotten to withdraw it, 
his whole attention being engaged in contemplating 
the movements of a water-snake about five feet long, 
curiously checkered with black and green, who was 
1 45 deliberately swimming across the^ pool. There being 
no stick or stone at hand to pelt him with, we looked 
at him for a time in silent disgust; and then pushed 
forward. Our perseverance was at last rewarded; 
for several rods farther on we emerged upon a little 
1 50 level grassy nook among the brushwood, and by an 
extraordinary dispensation of fortune the weeds and 
floating sticks, which elsewhere covered the pool, 
seemed to have drawn apart, and left a few yards 
of clear water just in front of this favored spot. We 
1 5 5 sounded it with a stick ; it was four feet deep ; we lifted 
a specimen in our closed hands; it seemed reason- 
ably transparent, so we decided that the time for ac- 
tion was arrived. But our ablutions were suddenly 
interrupted by ten thousand punctures, like poisoned 
1 60 needles, and the humming of myriads of overgrown 
mosquitoes, rising in all directions from their native 
mud and slime and swarming to the feast. We 
were fain to beat a retreat with all possible speed. 
We made toward the tents, much refreshed by the 
1 65 bath, which the heat of the weather, joined to our 
prejudices, had rendered very desirable. 

"What's the matter with the Captain? Look at 
him!" said Shaw. The Captain stood alone on 
the prairie, swinging his hat violently around his 
1 70 head, and lifting first one foot and then the other, 
without moving from the spot. First he looked 
down to the ground with an air of supreme abhor- 
rence; then he gazed upward with a perplexed and 



44 THE OREGON TRAIL 

indignant countenance, as if trying to trace the flight 

1 75 of an unseen enemy. We called to know what 
was the matter: but he replied only by execrations 
directed against some unknown object. We ap- 
proached, when our ears were saluted by a droning 
sound, as if twenty bee-hives had been overturne at 

1 80 once. The air above was full of large black in- 
sects in a state of. great commotion, and multitudes 
were flying about just above the tops of the grass- 
blades. 

"Don't be afraid," called the Captain, observing 

1 85 us recoil. "The brutes won't sting." 

At this I knocked one down with my hat, and 
discovered him to be no other than a "dor-bug"; 
and looking closer, we found the ground thickly 
perforated with their holes. 

190 We took a hasty leave of this flourishing colony, 
and walking up the rising ground to the tents, found 
Delorier's fire still glowing brightly. We sat down 
around it, and Shaw began to expatiate on the ad- 
mirable facilities for bathing that we had discovered, 

195 and recommended the Captain by all means to go 
down there before breakfast in the morning. The 
Captain was in the act of remarking that he couldn't 
have believed it possible, when he suddenly inter- 
rupted himself, and clapped his hand to his cheek, 

200 exclaiming that "those infernal humbugs were at 
him again." In fact, we began to hear sounds as 
if bullets were humming over our heads. In a mo- 
ment something rapped me sharply on the fore- 
head, then upon the neck, and immediately I felt 

205 an indefinite number of sharp, wiry claws in active 
motion, as if their owner were bent on pushing his 
explorations farther. I seized him and dropped him 
into the fire. Our party speedily broke up, and we 
adjourned to our respective tents, where, closing the 



THE ORK(;ON TRAIL 45 

2 lo opening fast, we hoped to be exempt from invasion. 
But all precaution was fruitless. The dor-bugs 
hummed through the tent and marched over our 
faces until daylight; when, opening our blankets, 
we found several dozen clinging there with the ut- 
2 15 most tenacity. The first object that met our eyes 
in the morning was Delorier, who seemed to be apos- 
trophizing his frying-pan, which he held by the handle, 
at arm's length^ It appeared that he had left it at 
night by the fire ; and the bottom was now covered with 
2 20 dor-bugs, firmly imbedded. Multitudes besides, curi- 
ously parched and shrivelled, lay scattered among the 
ashes. 

The horsds and mules were turned loose to feed. 
We had just taken our seats at breakfast, or rather re- 
225clined in the classic mode, when an exclamation from 
Henry Chatillon, and a shout of alarm from the Cap- 
tain, gave warning of some casualty, and looking up, 
we saw the whole band of animals, twenty-three in 
number, filing off for the settlements, the incorrigible 
230 Pontiac at their head, jumping along with hobbled feet, 
at a gait much more rapid than graceful. Three or 
four of us ran to cut them off, dashing as best we might 
through the tall grass which was glittering with myriads 
of dewdrops. After a race of a mile or more Shaw 
235 caught a horse. Tying the trail-rope by way of bridle 
round the animal's jaw, and leaping upon his back, 
he got in advance of the remaining fugitives, while 
we, soon bringing them together, drove them in a 
crowd up to the tents, where each man caught and 
240 saddled his own. Then were heard lamentations 
and curses ; for half the horses had broke their hobbles, 
and many were seriously galled by attempting to run 
in fetters. 

It was late that morning before we were on the 
245 march; and early in the afternoon we were com- 



46 THE OREGON TRAIL 

pelled to encamp, for a thunder-gust came up and 
suddenly enveloped us in whirling sheets of rain. 
With much ado we pitched our tents amid the tem- 
pest, and all night long the thunder bellowed and 

2 50 growled over our heads. In the morning, light 
peaceful showers succeeded the cataracts of rain 
that had been drenching us through the canvas of 
our tents. About noon, when there were some 
treacherous indications of fair weather, we got in 

255 motion again. 

Not a breath of air stirred over the free and open 
prairie; the clouds were like light piles of cotton; 
and where the blue sky was visible, it wore a hazy 
and languid aspect. The sun beat down upon us 

2 60 with a sultry penetrating heat almost insupportable, 
and as our party crept slowly along over the inter- 
minable level, the horses hung their heads as they 
waded fetlock deep through the mud, and the men 
slouched into the easiest position upon the saddle. 

265 At last, toward evening, the old familiar black heads 
of thunder-clouds rose fast above the horizon, and the 
same deep muttering of distant thunder that had 
become the ordinary accompaniment of our after- 
noon's journey began to roll hoarsely over the prairie. 

2 70 Only a few minutes elapsed before the whole sky 
was densely shrouded, and the prairie and some 
clusters of woods in front assumed a purple hue be- 
neath the inky shadows. Suddenly from the densest 
fold of the cloud the flash leaped out, quivering again 

275 and again down to the edge of the prairie ; and at the 
same instant came the sharp burst and the long rolling 
peal of the thunder. A cool wind, filled with the 
smell of rain, just then overtook us, levelling the tall 
grass by the side of the path. 

280 "Come on; we must ride for it!" shouted Shaw, 
rushing past at full speed, his led horse snorting at 



THE OREGON TRAIL 47 

his side. The whole party broke into full gallop, 
and made for the trees in front. Passing these, we 
found beyond them a meadow which they half inclosed. 

285 We rode pell-mell upon the ground, leaped from horse- 
back, tore off our saddles ; and in a moment each man 
was kneeling at his horse's feet. The hobbles were 
adjusted, and the animals turned loose; then, as the 
w^agons came wheeling rapidly to the spot, we seized 

290 upon the tent-poles, and just as the storm broke we 
were prepared to receive it. It came upon us almost 
with the darkness of night ; the trees which were close 
at hand were completely shrouded by the roaring 
torrents of rain. 

295 We were sitting in the tent, when Delorier, with 
his broad felt hat hanging about his ears and his 
shoulders glistening with rain, thrust in his head. 

"Voulez vous du souper, tout de suite? I can 
make fire, sous la charette — I b'lieve so — I try." 

300 ''Never mind supper, man; come in out of the 
rain." 

Delorier accordingly crouched in the entrance, 

for modesty would not permit him to intrude farther. 

Our tent was none of the best defence against 

305 such a cataract. The rain could not enter bodily, 
but it beat through the canvas in a fine drizzle that 
wetted us just as effectuahy. We sat upon our 
saddles with faces of the utmost surliness, while the 
water dropped from the vizors of our caps and trickled 

3iodown our cheeks. My india-rubber cloak conducted 
twenty little rapid streamlets to the ground; and 
Shaw's blanket coat was saturated like a sponge. 
But what most concerned us was the sight of several 
puddles of water rapidly accumulating; one, in par- 

3i5ticular, that was gathering around the tent-pole, 
threatened to overspread the whole area within the 
tent, holding forth but an indifferent promise of a 



48 THE OREGON TRAIL 

comfortable night's rest. Toward sunset, however, 
the storm ceased as suddenly as it began. A bright 

320 streak of clear red sky appeared above the western 
verge of the prairie, the horizontal rays of the sinking 
sun streamed through it, and glittered in a thousand 
prismatic colors upon the dripping groves and the 
prostrate grass. The pools in the tent dwindled and 

325 sank into the saturated soil. 

But all our hopes were delusive. Scarcely had 
night set in when the tumult broke forth anew. The 
thunder here is not like the tame thunder of the 
Atlantic coast. Bursting with a terrific crash directly 

330 above our heads, it roared over the boundless waste 
of prairie, seeming to roll around the whole circle 
of the firmament with a peculiar and awful rever- 
beration. The lightning flashed all night, playing 
with its livid glare upon the neighboring trees, re- 

33Svealing the vast expanse of the plain, and then leaving 
us shut in as if by a palpable wall of darkness. 

It did not disturb us much. Now and then a peal 
awakened us, and made us conscious of the electric 
battle that was raging, and of the floods that dashed 

340 upon the stanch canvas over our heads. We lay 
upon india-rubber cloths, placed between our blankets 
and the soil. For a while they excluded the water to 
admiration; but when at length it accumulated and 
began to run over the edges, they served equally well 

345 to retain it, so that toward the end of the night we were 
unconsciously reposing in small pools of rain. 

On finally awakening in the morning the prospect 
was not a cheerful one. The rain no longer poured 
in torrents, but it pattered with a quiet pertinacity 

350 upon the strained and saturated canvas. We dis- 
engaged ourselves from our blankets, every fibre of 
which glistened with little bead-Hke drops of water, 
and looked out in the vain hope of discovering some 



THE OREGON TRAIL 49 

token of fair weather. The clouds, . in lead-colored 

355 volumes, rested upon the dismal verge of the prairie, 
or hung sluggishly overhead, while the earth wore 
an aspect no more attractive than the heavens, ex- 
hibiting nothing but pools of water, grass beaten 
down, and mud well trampled by our mules and 

360 horses. Our companions' tent, with an air of for- 
lorn and passive misery, and their w,agons in like 
manner, drenched and woe-begone, stood not far 
off. The Captain was just returning from his morn- 
ing's inspection of the horses. He stalked through 

365 the mist and rain with his plaid around his shoulders, 
his little pipe, dingy as an antiquarian relic, projecting 
from beneath his moustache, and his brother Jack 
at his heels. 

'' Good-morning, Captain." 

370 '' Good-morning to your honors," said the Cap- 
tain, affecting the Hibernian accent; but at that 
instant, as he stooped to enter the tent, he tripped 
upon the cords at the entrance, and pitched forward 
against the guns which were strapped around the 

375 pole in the centre. 

''You are nice men, you are!" said he, after an 
ejaculation not necessary to be recorded, "to set a 
man-trap before your door every morning to catch 
your visitors." 

380 Then he sat down upon Henry Chatillon's saddle. 
We tossed a piece of buffalo-robe to Jack, who was 
looking about in some embarrassment. He spread 
it on. the ground, and took his seat, with a stolid coun- 
tenance, at his brother's side. 

385 "Exhilarating weather, Captain." 

"Oh, delightful, delightful!" replied the Cap- 
tain; "I knew it would be so; so much for starting 
yesterday at noon! I knew how it would turn out; 
and I said so at the time." 



50 THE OREGON TRAIL 

390 ''You said just the contrary to us. We were in no 

hurry, and only moved because you insisted on it." 

"Gentlemen," said the Captain, taking his pipe 

from his mouth with an air of extreme gravity, "it 

was no plan of mine. There's a man among us 

395 who is determined to have everything his own way. 
You may express your opinion; but don't expect 
him to listen. You may be as reasonable as you 
like; oh, it all goes for nothing! That man is re- 
solved to rule the roost, and he'll set his face against 

400 any plan that he didn't think of himself." 

The Captain puffed for awhile at his pipe, as if 

meditating upon his grievances; then he began again. 

"For twenty years I have been in the British army; 

and in all that time I never had half so much dissension, 

405 and quarrelling, and nonsense, as since I have been 
on this cursed prairie. He's the most uncomfortable 
man I ever met." 

"Yes"; said Jack, "and don't you know. Bill, 
how he drank up all the coffee last night, and put 

4 10 the rest by for himself till the morning!" 

"He pretends to know everything," resumed the 
Captain; "nobody must give orders but he! It's, 
oh! we must do this; and, oh! we must do that; 
and the tent must be pitched here, and the horses. 

4 1 5 must be picketed there ; for nobody knows as well 
as he does." 

We were a little surprised at this disclosure of 
domestic dissensions among our allies, for though 
we knew of their existence, we were not aware of their 

420 extent. The persecuted Captain, seeming wholly at 
a loss as to the course of conduct that he should pur- 
sue, we recommended him to adopt prompt and 
energetic measures; but all his military experience 
had failed to teach him the indispensable lesson, to be 

425 "hard" when the emergency requires it. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 51 

"For twenty years," he repeated, "I have been 
in the British army, and in that time I have been in- 
timately acquainted with some two hundred officers, 
young and old, and I never yet quarrelled with any 

430 man. "Oh, anything for a quiet life!" that's my 
maxim." 

We intimated that the prairie was hardly the place 
to enjoy a quiet life, but that, in the present circum- 
stances, the best thing he could do toward securing his 

435 wished-for tranquillity was immediately to put a period 
to the nuisance that disturbed it. But again the 
Captain's easy good nature recoiled from the task. 
The somewhat vigorous measures necessary to gain 
the desired result were utterly repugnant to him; he 

440 preferred to pocket his grievances, still retaining the 
privilege of grumbling about them. "Oh, anything 
for a quiet life!" he said again, circling back to his 
favorite maxim. 

But to glance at the previous history of our trans- 

445atlantic confederates. The Captain had sold his 
commission, and was living in bachelor ease and 
dignity in his paternal halls, near Dublin. He hunted, 
fished, rode steeple-chases, ran races, and talked of his 
former exploits. He was surrounded with the trophies 

4 5 o of his rod and gun ; the walls were plentifully garnished, 
he told us, with moose-horns and deer-horns, bear- 
skins and fox-tails; for the Captain's double-barrelled 
rifle had seen service in Canada and Jamaica; he had 
killed salmon in Nova Scotia, and trout, by his own 

455 account, in all the streams of the three kingdoms. 
But in an evil hour a seductive stranger came from 
London; no less a person than R., who, among other 
multitudinous wanderings, had once been upon the 
western prairies, and, naturally enough, was anxious 

460 to visit them again. The Captain's imagination was 
inflamed by the pictures of a hunter's paradise that 



52 THE OREGON TRAIL 

his guest held forth; he conceived an ambition to 
add to his other trophies the horns of a buffalo and the 
claws of a grizzly bear; so he and R. struck a league 

465 to travel in company. Jack followed his brother as 
a matter of course. Two weeks on board of the 
Atlantic steamer brought them to Boston; in two 
weeks more of hard travelling they reached St. Louis, 
from which a ride of six days carried them to the 

4 70 frontier; and here we found them, in the full tide of 
preparation for their journey. 

We had been throughout on terms of intimacy 
with the Captain, but R., the motive power of our 
companions' branch of the expedition, was scarcely 

475 known to us. His voice, indeed, might be heard 
incessantly; but at camp he remained chiefly within 
the tent, and on the road he either rode by himself 
or else remained in close conversation with his friend 
Wright, the muleteer. As the Captain left the tent 

480 that morning I observed R. standing by the fire, and 
having nothing else to do, I determined to ascertain, if 
possible, what manner of man he was. He had a book 
under his arm, but just at present he was engrossed 
in actively superintending the operations of Sorel, 

485 the hunter, who was cooking some corn-bread over 
the coals for breakfast. R. was a well-formed and 
rather good-looking man, some thirty years old; con- 
siderably younger than the Captain. He wore a beard 
and a moustache of the oakum complexion, and his 

490 attire was altogether more elegant than one ordinarily 
sees on the prairie. He wore his cap on one side of 
his head; his checked shirt open in front, was in very 
neat order, considering the circumstances, and his 
blue pantaloons of the John Bull cut, might once have 

49 5 figured in Bond Street. 

''Turn over that cake, man! turn it over quick! 
Don't you see it burning?" 



THE OREGON TRAIL 53 

"It ain't half-done," growled Sorel, in the amiable 
tone of a whipped bull-dog. 
500 "It is. Turn it over, I tell you!" 

Sorel, a strong, sullen-looking Canadian, who, 
from having spent his life among the wildest and 
most remote of the Indian tribes, had imbibed much 
of their dark vindictive spirit, looked ferociously up, 
505 as if he longed to leap upon his bourgeois and throttle 
him; but he obeyed the order, coming from so experi- 
enced an artist. 

"It was a good idea of yours," said I, seating my- 
self on the tongue of the wagon," to bring Indian 
5 10 meal with you." 

"Yes, yes," said R., "it's good bread for the prairie 
— good bread for the prairie. I tell you that's burning 
again." 

Here he stooped down, and unsheathing the silver- 
515 mounted hunting-knife in his belt, began to perform 
the part of cook himself; at the same time requesting 
me to hold for a moment the book under his arm, 
which interfered with the exercise of these important 
functions. I opened it ; it was Macaulafs Lays; and I 
5 20 made some remark, expressing my admiration of the 
work. 

"Yes, yes; a pretty good thing. Macaulay can 
do better than that, though. I know him very well. 
I have travelled with him. Where was it we met 
525 first — at Damascus? No, no; it was in Italy." 

"So," said I, "you have been over the same ground 
with your countryman, the author of Eothen? There 
has been some discussion in America as to who he 
is. I have heard Milnes's name mentioned." 
530 "Milnes? Oh, no, no, no; not at all. It was 
Kinglake; Kinglake's the man. I know him very 
well; that is, I have seen him." 

Here Jack C, who stood by, interposed a remark (a 



54 THE OREGON TRAIL 

thing not common with him), observing that he thought 

535 the weather would become fair before twelve o'clock. 
"It's going to rain all day," said R., "and clear up 
in the middle of the night." 

Just then the clouds began to dissipate in a very 
unequivocal manner; but Jack, not caring to defend 

540 his point against so authoritative a declaration, walked 
away whistling, and we resumed our conversation. 

"Borrow, the author of The Bible in Spain, I pre- 
sume you know him, too?" 

"Oh, certainly; I know all those men. By the 

545 way, they told me that one of your American writers. 
Judge Story, had died lately. I edited some of his 
works in London; not without faults, though." 

Here followed an erudite commentary on certain 
points of law, in which he particularly animadverted 

550 on the errors into which he considered that the judge 
had been betrayed. At length, having tcuched suc- 
cessively on an infinite variety of topics, I found that 
I had the happiness of discovering a man equally com- 
petent to enlighten me upon them all, equally an 

555 authority on matters of science or literature, philoso- 
phy or fashion. The part I bore in the conversation 
was by no means a prominent one; it was only neces- 
sary to set him going, and when he had run long enough 
upon one topic, to divert him to another, and lead him 

5 60 on to pour out his heaps of treasure in succession. 

"What has that fellow been saying to you?" said 
Shaw, as I returned to the tent. "I have heard 
nothing but his talking for the last half -hour." 

R. had none of the peculiar traits of the ordinary 

565 "British' snob"; his absurdities were all his own, 
belonging to no particular nation or clime. He was 
possessed with an active devil that had driven him 
over land and sea, to no great purpose, as it seemed; 
for although he had the usual complement of eyes 



THE OREGON TRAIL 55 

5 70 and ears, the avenues between these organs and 
his brain appeared remarkably narrow and untrodden. 
His energy was much more conspicuous than his 
wisdom; but his predominant characteristic was a 
magnanimous ambition to exercise on all occasions an 

575 awful rule and supremacy, and this propensity equally 
displayed itself; as the reader will have observed, 
whether the matter in question was the baking of a 
hoe-cake or a point of international law. When such 
diverse elements as he and the easy-tempered Captain 

580 came in contact, no wonder some commotion ensued. 
R. rode rough-shod, from morning till night, over his 
military ally. 

At noon the sky was clear, and we set out, trail- 
ing through mud and slime six inches deep. That 

585 night we were spared the customary infliction of the 
shower-bath. 

On the next afternoon we were moving slowly 
along, not far from a patch of woods which lay on 
the right. Jack C. rode a little in advance, 

590 "The livelong day he had not spoke," 

when suddenly he faced about, pointed to the woods, 
and roared out to his brother: 
''Oh, Bill! here's a cow!" 
The Captain instantly galloped forward, and he 

595 and Jack made a vain attempt to capture the prize; 
but the cow, with a well-grounded distrust of their 
intentions, took refuge among the trees. R. joined 
them, and they soon drove her out. We watched 
their evolutions as they galloped around her, tr^ang 

600 in vain to noose her with their trail-ropes, which 
they had converted into lariettes for the occasion. 
At length they resorted to milder measures, and the 
cow was driven along with the party. Soon after 
the usual thunder-storm came up, the wind blowing 



S6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

605 with such fury, that the streams of rain flew almost 
horizontally along the prairie, roaring like a cat- 
aract. The horses turned tail to the storm, and 
stood hanging their heads, bearing the infliction 
with an air of meekness and resignation; while we 

610 drew our heads between our shoulders, and crouched 
forward, so as to make our backs serve as a pent- 
house for the rest of our persons. Meanwhile, the 
cow, taking advantage of the tumult, ran off, to the 
great discomfiture of the Captain, who seemed to 

61 5 consider her as his own especial prize, since she had 
been discovered by Jack. In defiance of the storm, 
he pulled his cap tight over his brows, jerked a huge 
buffalo-pistol from his holster, and set out at full 
speed after her. This was the last we saw of them 

620 for some time, the mist and rain making an impene- 
trable veil; but at length we heard the Captain's 
shout, and saw him looming through the tempest, 
the picture of a Hibernian cavalier, with his cocked 
pistol held aloft for safety's sake, and a countenance 

625 of anxiety and excitement. The cow trotted before 
him, but exhibited evident signs of an intention to 
run off again, and the Captain was roaring to us to 
head her. But the rain had got in behind our coat 
collars, and was travelling over our necks in numer- 

630 ous little streamlets, and being afraid to move our 
heads, for fear of admitting more, we sat stiff and 
immovable, looking at the Captain askance, and 
laughing at his frantic movements. At last the cow 
made a sudden plunge and ran off; the Captain 

635 grasped his pistol firmly, spurred his horse, and gal- 
loped after, with evident designs of mischief. In a 
moment we heard the faint report, deadened by the 
rain, and then the conqueror and his victim reap- 
peared, the latter shot through the body, and quite 

640 helpless. Not long after the storm moderated and 



THE OREGON TRAIL 57 

we advanced again. The cow walked painfully 
along under the charge of Jack, to whom the Cap- 
tain had committed her, while he himself rode for- 
ward in his old capacity of vidette. We were ap- 

64 5proaching a long line of trees that followed a stream 

stretching across our path, far in front, when we 

beheld the vidette galloping toward us, apparently 

much excited, but with a broad grin on his face. 

"Let that cow drop behind!" he shouted to us; 

050 "here's her owners!" 

And in fact, as we approached the line of trees, 
a large white object, like a tent, was visible behind 
them. On approaching, however, we found, instead 
of the expected Mormon camp, nothing but the lonely 

055 prairie, 'and a large white rock standing by the path. 
The cow, therefore, resumed her place in our proces- 
sion. She walked on until we encamped, when R., 
firmly approaching with his enomous English double- 
barrelled rifle, calmly and deliberately took aim at 

660 her heart, and discharged into it first one bullet and 

then the other. She was then butchered on the most 

approved principles of woodcraft, and furnished a 

very welcome item to our somewhat limited bill of fare. 

In a day or two more we reached the river called 

665 the "Big Blue." By titles equally elegant almost 
all the streams of this region are designated. We 
had struggled through ditches and little brooks all 
that morning; but on traversing the dense woods 
that lined the banks of the blue we found that more 

6 70 formidable difficulties awaited us, for the stream, 
swollen by the rains, was wide, deep, and rapid. 

No sooner were we on the spot than R. had fiung 
off his clothes, and was swimming across or splash- 
ing through the shallows, with the end of a rope 

675 between his teeth. We all looked on in admira- 
tion, wondering what might be the design of this 



58 THE OREGON TRAIL 

energetic preparation; but soon we heard him shout- 
ing: "Give that rope a turn round that stump! 
You, Sorel; do you hear? Look sharp, now, Bois- 

68overd! Come over to this side, some of you, and 
help me!" The men to whom these orders were 
directed paid not the least attention to them, though 
they were poured out without pause or intermission. 
Henry Chatillon directed the work, and it proceeded 

685 quietly and rapidly. R.'s sharp brattling voice 
might have been heard incessantly; and he was 
leaping about with the utmost activity, multiplying 
himself, after the manner of great commanders, as 
if his universal presence and supervision were of 

690 the last necessity. His commands were rather amus- 
ingly inconsistent; for when he saw that the men 
would not do as he told them, he wisely accommo- 
dated himself to circumstances, and with the ut- 
most vehemence ordered them to do precisely that 

69 5 which they were at the time engaged upon, no doubt 
recollecting the story of Mahomet and the refractory 
mountain. Shaw smiled significantly; R. observed 
it, and approaching with a countenance of lofty indigna- 
tion, began to vapor a little, but was instantly reduced 

700 to silence. 

The raft was at length complete. We piled our 
goods upon it, with the exception of our guns, which 
each man chose to retain in his own keeping. Sorel, 
Boisverd, Wright, and Delorier took their stations 

705 at the four corners, to hold it together, and swim 
across with it ; and in a moment more all our earthly 
possessions were floating on the turbid waters of the 
Big Blue. We sat on the bank, anxiously watching 
the result, until we saw the raft safely landed in a little 

7 10 cove far down on the opposite bank. The empty 
wagons were easily passed across; and then, each 
man mounting a horse, we rode through the stream, 
the stray animals following of their own accord. 



CHAPTER VI 

The Platte and the Desert 

"Seest thou yon dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 
The seat of desolation?" — Paradise Lost 

"Here have we war for war, and blood for blood." 

— King John 

We were now arrived at the close of our solitary 
sjourneyings along the St. Joseph's trail. On the 
evening of the twenty-third of May we encamped 
near its junction with the old legitimate trail of the 
Oregon emigrants. We had ridden long that after- 
noon, trying in vain to find wood and water until 

I oat length we saw the sunset sky reflected from a 
pool encircled by bushes and a rock or two. The 
water lay in the bottom of a hollow, the smooth 
prairie gracefully rising in ocean-like swells on every 
side. We pitched our tents by it; not, however, 

1 5 before the keen eye of Henry Chatillon had dis- 
cerned some unusual object upon the faintly defined 
outhne of the distant swell. But in the moist, hazy 
atmosphere of the evening nothing could be clearly 
distinguished. As we lay around the fire after supper 

20 a low and distant sound, strange enough amid the 
loneliness of the prairie, reached our ears — peals 
of laughter and the faint voices of men and women. 
For eight days we had not encountered a human 
being, and this singular warning of their vicinity 

2 5 had an effect extremely wild and impressive. 

About dark a sallow-faced fellow descended the 
hill on horseback, and splashing through the pool, 
rode up to the tents. He was enveloped in a huge 

59 



6o THE OREGON TRAIL 

cloak, and his broad felt hat was weeping about his 

30 ears with the drizzling moisture of the evening. An- 
other followed, a stout, square-built, intelligent -looking 
man, who announced himself as leader of an emigrant 
party, encamped a mile in advance of us. About 
twenty wagons, he said, were with him; the rest 

3 5 of his party were on the other side of the Big Blue, 
waiting for a woman who was in the pains of child- 
birth, and quarrelling meanwhile among themselves. 
These were the first emigrants that we had over- 
taken, although we had found abundant and melan- 

4ocholy traces of their progress throughout the whole 
course of the journey. Sometimes we passed the 
grave of one who had sickened and died on the way. 
The earth was usually torn up and covered thickly 
with wolf-tracks. Some had escaped this viola- 

45tion. One morning a piece of plank, standing up- 
right on the summit of a grassy hill, attracted our 
notice, and riding up to it, we found the following 
words very roughly traced upon it, apparently by a 
red-hot piece of iron: 

50 MARY ELLIS, 

DIED MAY 7th, 1845. 

Aged two months. 

Such tokens were of common occurrence. Noth- 
ing could speak more for the hardihood, or rather 

5 5 infatuation, of the adventurers, or the sufferings that 
await them upon the journey. 

We were late in breaking up our camp on the 
following morning, and scarcely had we ridden a 
mile when we saw, far in advance of us, drawn against 

60 the horizon, a line of objects stretching at regular 
intervals along the level edge of the prairie. An 
intervening swell soon hid them from sight, until, 
ascending it a quarter of an hour after, we saw close 



thp: ore(}on trail 6i 

before us the emigrant caravan, with its heavy white 

6 5 wagons creeping on in their slow procession, and a 

large drove of cattle following behind. Half a dozen 
yellow-visaged Missourians, mounted on horseback, 
were cursing and shouting among them; their lank 
angular proportions, enveloped in brown homespun, 
70 evidently cut and adjusted l)y the hands of a domestic 
female tailor. As we approached, they greeted us 
with the polished salutation : "How are ye, boys ? Are 
ye for Oregon or California?" 

As we pushed rapidly past the wagons, children's 

7 5 faces were thrust out from the white coverings to 

look at us; while the careworn, thin-featured ma- 

« tron, or the buxom girl, seated in front, suspended 

the knitting on which most of them were engaged to 

stare at us with wondering curiosity. By the side 

80 of each wagon stalked the proprietor, urging on his 
patient oxen, who shouldered heavily along, inch 
by inch, on their interminable journey. It was easy 
to see that fear and dissension prevailed among 
them; some of the men — but these, with one excep- 

85tion, were bachelors — looked wistfully upon us as we 
rode lightly and swiftly past, and then impatiently 
at their own lumbering wagons and heavy-gaited 
oxen. Others were unwilling to advance at all until 
the party they had left behind should have rejoined 

90 them. Many were murmuring against the leader 
they had chosen, and wished to depose him; and 
this discontent was fomented by some ambitious 
spirits, who had hopes of succeeding in his place. 
The women were divided between regrets for the 

95 homes they had left and apprehension of the deserts 
and the savages before them. 

We soon left them far behind, and fondly hoped 
that we had taken a final leave; but unluckily our 
companions' wagon stuck so long in a deep muddy 



62 THE OREGON TRAIL 

I oo ditch, that before it was extricated the van of the 
emigrant caravan appeared again, descending a 
ridge close at hand. Wagon after wagon plunged 
through the mud; and as it was nearly noon, and 
the place promised shade and water, we saw with 

105 much gratification that they were resolved to encamp. 
Soon the wagons were wheeled into a circle; the cattle 
were grazing over the meadow, and the men, with sour, 
sullen faces, were looking about for wood and water. 
They seemed to meet with but indifferent success. 

1 1 o As we left the ground I saw a tall slouching fellow, 

with the nasal accent of "down east," contemplating 
the contents of his tin cup, which he had just filled 
with water. 

"Look here, you," said he; "it's chock-full of 
1 15 animals!" 

The cup, as he held it out, exhibited in fact an 
extraordinary variety and profusion of animal and 
vegetable life. 

Riding up the little hill, and looking back on the 
1 20 meadow, we could easily see that all was not right 
in the camp of the emigrants. The men were crowded 
together, and an angry discussion seemed to be going 
forward. R. was missing from his wonted place in 
the line, and the Captain told us that he had remained 

1 2 5 behind to get his horse shod by a blacksmith who was 

attached to the emigrant party. Something whispered 
in our ears that mischief was on foot; we kept on, 
however, and coming soon to a stream of tolerable 
water, we stopped to rest and dine. Still the absentee 

1 30 lingered behind. At last, at the distance of a mile, 

he and his horse suddenly appeared, sharply defined 

against the sky on the summit of a hill; and close 

behind a huge white object rose slowly into view. 

"What is that blockhead bringing with him now?" 

135 A moment dispelled the mystery. Slowly and 



THE OREGON TRAIL 63 

solemnly, one behind the other, four long trains of 
oxen and four emigrant wagons rolled over the crest 
of the declivity and gravely descended, while R. 
rode in state in the van. It seems that during the 

1 40 process of shoeing the horse, the smothered dissen- 
sions among the emigrants suddenly broke into open 
rupture. Some insisted on pushing forward, some 
on remaining where they were, and some on going 
back. Kearsley, their captain, threw up his com- 

i45mand in disgust. "And now, boys," said he, "if 
any of you are for going ahead, just you come along 
with me." 

Four wagons, with ten men, one woman, and one 
small child, made up the force of the "go-ahead" 

1 50 faction, and R., with his usual proclivity toward 
mischief, invited them to join our party. Fear of 
the Indians — for I can conceive of no other motive 
— must have induced him to court so burdensome 
an alliance. As may well be conceived, these repeated 

1 5 5 instances of high-handed dealing sufficiently exas- 
perated us. In this case, indeed, the men who joined 
us were all that could be desired; rude, indeed, in 
manners, but frank, manly, and intelligent. To tell 
them we could not travel with them was of course out 

1 60 of the question. I merely reminded Kearsley that if 
his oxen could not keep up with our mules he must 
expect to be left behind, as we could not consent to 
be farther delayed on the journey; but he immediately 
replied that his oxen ^^ should keep up; and if they 

165 couldn't, why he allowed he'd find out how to make 
'em!" Having also availed myself of what satisfaction 
could be derived from giving R. to understand my 
opinion of his conduct, I returned to our ow^n side of the 
camp. 

170 On the next day, as it chanced, our English com- 
panions broke the axle-tree of their wagon, and down 



64 THE OREGON TRAIL 

came the whole cumbrous machine lumbering into 
the bed of a brook! Here was a day's work cut out 
for us. Meanwhile, our emigrant associates kept 

1 75 on their way, and so vigorously did they urge for- 
ward their powerful oxen, that, with the broken axle- 
tree and other calamities, it was full a week before 
we overtook them; when at length we discovered 
them, one afternoon, crawling quietly along the sandy 

1 80 brink of the Platte. But meanwhile various incidents 
occurred to ourselves. 

It was probable that at this stage of. our journey 
the Pawnees would attempt to rob us. We began, 
therefore, to stand guard in turn, dividing the night 

185 into three watches, and appointing two men for 
each. Delorier and I held guard together. We 
did not march with military precision to and fro 
before the tents our discipline was by no means so 
stringent and right. We wrapped ourselves in our 

190 blankets and sat down by the fire; and Delorier, 
combining his culinary functions with his duties as 
sentinel, employed himself in boiling the head of 
an antelope for our morning's repast. Yet we were 
models of vigilance in comparison with some of the 

195 party; for the oidinary practice of the guard was to 
estabhsh himself in the most comfortable posture he 
could; lay his rifle on the ground, and enveloping his 
nose in his blanket, meditate on his mistress or what- 
ever subject best pleased him. This is all well enough 

200 when among Indians who do not habitually proceed 
farther in their hostility than robbing travellers of 
their horses and mules, though, indeed, a Pawnee's 
forbearance is not always to be trusted; but in cer- 
tain regions farther to the west the guard must beware 

205 how he exposes his person to the light of the fire, lest 
perchance some keen-eyed skulking marksman should 
let fly a bullet or an arrow from amid the darkness. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 65 

Among various tales that circulated around our 
camp-fires was a rather curious one, told by Boisverd, 

2 10 and not inappropriate here. Boisverd was trapping 
with several companions on the skirts of the Black- 
foot country. The man on guard, well knowing 
that it behooved him to put forth his utmost pre- 
caution, kept aloof from the fire-light, and sat watch- 

2 1 5 ing intently on all sides. At length he was aware of 
a dark, crouching figure, stealing noiselessly into 
the circle of the light. He hastily cocked his rifle, 
but the sharp click of the lock caught the ear of Black- 
foot, whose senses were all on the alert. Raising his 

2 20 arrow, already fitted to the string, he shot it in the 

direction of the sound. So sure was his aim, that he 

drove it through the throat of the unfortunate guard, 

and then, with a loud yell, bounded from the camp. 

As I looked at the partner of my watch, puffing 

225 and blowing over his fire, it occurred to me that he 
might not prove the most eflicient auxiliary in time 
of trouble. ' 

"Delorier," said I, "would you run away if the 
Pawnees should fire at us?" 

230 "Ah! oui, oui. Monsieur!" he replied very deci- 
sively. 

I did not doubt the fact, but was a little surprised 
at the frankness of the confession. 

At this instant a most whimsical variety of voices 

235 — barks, howls, yelps, and whines — all mingled as 
it were together, sounded from the prairie, not far 
off, as if a whole conclave of wolves of every age 
and sex were assembled there. Delorier looked up 
from his work with a laugh, and began to imitate 

2 40 this curious medley of sounds with a most ludicrous 
accuracy. At this they were repeated with redoubled 
emphasis, the musician being apparently indignant 
at the successful efforts of a rival. They all pro- 



66 THE OREGON TRAIL 

ceeded from the throat of one little wolf, not larger 

245 than a spaniel, seated by himself at some distance. 
He was of the species called the prairie-wolf; a grim- 
visaged, but harmless Httle brute, whose worst pro- 
pensity is creeping among horses and gnawing the 
ropes of raw-hide by which they are picketed around 

2 50 the camp. But other beasts roam the prairies far 
more formidable in aspect and in character. These 
are the large white and gray wolves, whose deep 
howl we heard at intervals from far and near. 

At last I fell into a doze, and awaking from it, 

255 found Delorier fast asleep. Scandahzed by this 
breach of discipline, I was about to stimulate his 
vigilance by stirring him with the stock of my rifle; 
but compassion prevailing, I determined to let him 
sleep awhile, and then arouse him and administer a 

2 60 suitable reproof for such a forgetfulness of duty. 
Now and then I walked the rounds among the silent 
horses to see that all was right. The night was 
chill, damp, and dark, the dank grass bending under 
the icy dewdrops. At the distance of a rod or two 

265 the tents were invisible, and nothing could be seen 
but the obscure figures of the horses, deeply breathing, 
and restlessly starting as they slept, or still slowly 
champing the grass. Far off, beyond the black out- 
line of the prairie, there was a ruddy light, gradually 

2 70 increasing like the glow of a conflagration; until at 
length the broad disk of the moon, blood-red, and 
vastly magnified by the vapors, rose slowly upon the 
darkness, flecked by one or two little clouds, and as the 
light poured over the gloomy plain a fierce and stern 

2 75 howl, close at hand, seemed to greet it as an unwel- 
come intruder. There was something impressive 
and awful in the place and the hour; for I and the 
beasts were all that had consciousness for many a 
league around. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 67 

280 Some days elapsed, and brought us near the Platte. 
Two men on horseback approached us one morning, 
and we watched them with the curiosity and interest 
that, upon the solitude of the plains, such an en- 
counter always excites. They were evidently whites, 

285 from their mode of riding, though, contrary to the usage 
of that region, neither of them carried a rifle. 

"Fools!" remarked Henry Chatillon, "to ride 
that way on the prairie; Pawnee find them — then 
they catch it." 

290 Pawnee had found them, and they had come very 
near "catching it"; indeed, nothing saved them 
from trouble but the approach of our party. Shaw 
and I knew one of them; a man named Turner, 
whom we had seen at Westport. He and his com- 

295panion belonged to an emigrant party encamped 
a few miles in advance, and had returned to look for 
some stray oxen, leaving their rifles, with characteristic 
rashness or ignorance, behind them. Their neglect 
had nearly cost them dear; for just before we came 

300 up half a dozen Indians approached, and seeing them 
apparently defenceless, one of the rascals seized the 
bridle of Turner's fine horse, and ordered him to dis- 
mount. Turner was wholly unarmed; but the other 
jerked a little revolving pistol out of his pocket, at which 

305 the Pawnee recoiled; and just then some of our men 

appearing in the distance, the whole party whipped 

their rugged little horses, and made off. In no way 

daunted. Turner foolishly persisted in going forward. 

Long after leaving him, and late that afternoon, 

3 10 in the midst of a gloomy and barren prairie, we came 
suddenly upon the great Pawnee trail, leading from 
their villages on the Platte to their war and hunting 
grounds to the southward. Here every summer pass 
the motley concourse; thousands of savages, men, 

31 5 women, and children, horses and mules, laden with 



68 THE OREGON TRAIL 

their weapons and implements, and an innumerable 
multitude of unruly wolfish dogs, who have not ac- 
quired the civilized accomplishment of barking, but 
howl like their wild cousins of the prairie. 

320 The permanent winter villages of the Pawnees 
stand on the lower Platte, but throughout the sum- 
mer the greater part of the inhabitants are wander- 
ing over the plains, a treacherous, cowardly ban- 
ditti, who, by a thousand acts of pillage and murder, 

325 have deserved summary chastisement at the hands 
of government. Last year a Dahcotah warrior per- 
formed a signal exploit at one of these villages. He 
approached it alone, in the middle of a dark night, 
and clambering up the outside of one of the lodges, 

3 30 which are in the form of a half-sphere, he looked 
in at the round hole made at the top for the escape 
of smoke. The dusky light from the smouldering 
embers showed him the forms of the sleeping in- 
mates; and dropping lightly through the opening, 

335 he unsheathed his knife, and stirring the fire, coolly 
selected his victims. One by one, he stabbed and 
scalped them; when a child suddenly awoke and 
screamed. He rushed from the lodge, yelled a Sioux 
war-cry, shouted his name in triumph and defiance 

340 and in a moment had darted out upon the dark prairie, 
leaving the whole village behind him in a tumult, with 
the howling and baying of dogs, the screams of women, 
and the yells of the enraged warriors. 

Our friend Kearsley, as we learned on rejoining 

345 him, signalized himself by a less bloody achieve- 
ment. He and his men were good woodsmen, and 
well skilled in the use of the rifle; but found them- 
selves wholly out of their element on the prairie. 
None of them had ever seen a buffalo; and they 

350 had very vague conceptions of his nature and ap- 
pearance. On the day after they reached the Platte, 



THE OREGON TRAIL 69 

looking toward a distant swell, they beheld a mul- 
titude of little black specks in motion upon its 
surface. 
355 "Take your rifles, boys," said Kearsley, "and 
w^e'U have fresh meat for supper." This induce- 
ment was quite sufficient. The ten men left their 
wagons, and set out in hot haste, some on horse- 
back and some on foot, in pursuit of the supposed 
360 buffalo. Meanwhile a high grassy ridge shut the 
game from view; but mounting it after half an hour's 
running and riding, they found themselves suddenly 
confronted by about thirty mounted Pawnees! The 
amazement and consternation were mutual. Having 
365 nothing^ but their bows and arrows, the Indians thought 
their hour was come, and the fate that they were no 
doubt conscious of richly deserving about to overtake 
them. So they began, one and all, to shout forth the 
most cordial salutations of friendship, running up with 
3 70 extreme earnestness to shake hands with the Mis- 
sourians, who were as much rejoiced as they were to 
escape the expected conflict. 

A low undulating line of sand-hills bounded the 

horizon before us. That day we rode ten consecu- 

3 75tive hours, and it was dusk before we entered the 

hollows and gorges of these gloomy little hills. At 

length we gained the summit, and the long-expected 

valley of the Platte lay before us. We all drew 

rein, and gathering in a knot on the crest of the hill, 

380 sat joyfully looking down upon the prospect. It was 

right welcome; strange, too, and striking to the 

imagination, and yet it had not one picturesque 

or beautiful feature; nor had it any of the features of 

grandeur, other than its vast extent, its solitude, and 

385 its wildness. For league after league a plain as 

level as a frozen lake was outspread beneath us ; here 

and there the Platte, divided into a dozen thread-like 



70 THE OREGON TRAIL 

sluices, was traversing it, and an occasional clump of 
wood, rising in the midst like a shadowy island, relieved 

390 the monotony of the waste. No living thing was 
moving throughout the vast landscape, except the 
lizards that darted over the sand and through the rank 
grass and prickly-pear, just at our feet. And yet 
stern and wild associations gave a singular interest to 

395 the view; for here each man lives by the strength of 
his arm and the valor of his heart. Here society is 
reduced to its original elements, the whole fabric of 
art and conventionality is struck rudely to pieces, and 
men find themselves suddenly brought back to the 

400 wants and resources of their original natures. 

We had passed the more toilsome and monoto- 
nous part of the journey; but four hundred miles 
still intervened between us and Fort Laramie; and 
to reach that point cost us the travel of three addi- 

4o5tional weeks. During the w^hole of this time we 
were passing up the centre of a long narrow sandy 
plain, reaching, like an outstretched belt, nearly to 
the Rocky Mountains. Two lines of sand-hills, 
broken often into the wildest and most fantastic 

410 forms, flanked the valley at the distance of a mile 
or two on the right and left; while beyond them lay 
a barren, trackless waste — "The Great American 
Desert" — extending for hundreds of miles to the 
Arkansas on the one side, and the Missouri on the 

415 other. Before us and behind us the level monotony 
of the plain was unbroken as far as the eye could 
reach. Sometimes it glared in the sun, an expanse 
of hot, bare sand; sometimes it was veiled by long 
coarse grass. Huge skulls and whitening bones of 

420 buffalo were scattered everywhere; the ground was 
tracked by myriads of them, and often covered with 
the circular indentations where the bulls had wallowed 
in the hot weather. From every gorge and ravine. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 71 

opening from the hills descended deep, well-worn 

425 paths, where the buffalo issue twice a day in regular 
procession down to drink in the Platte. The river 
itself runs through the midst, a thin sheet of rapid 
turbid water, half a mile wide, and scarce two feet 
deep. Its low banks, for the most part without a bush 

430 or a tree, are of loose sand, with which the stream 
is so charged that it grates on the teeth in drinking. 
The naked landscape is of itself dreary and monoto- 
nous enough; and yet the wild beasts and wild men 
that frequent the valley of the Platte make it a scene 

435 of interest and excitement to the traveller. Of those 

who have journeyed there scarce one, perhaps, fails to 

look back with fond regret to his horse and to his rifle. 

Early in the morning after we reached the Platte, 

a long procession of squalid savages approached our 

440 camp. Each was on foot, leading his horse by a 
rope of bull-hides. His attire consisted merely of a 
scanty cincture, and an old buffalo-robe, tattered 
and begrimed by use, which hung over his shoulders. 
His head was close-shaven, except a ridge of hair 

445 reaching over the crown from the centre of the fore- 
head, very much like the long bristles on the back 
of a hyena, and he carried his bow and arrows in his 
hand, while his meagre little horse was laden with dried 
buffalo-meat, the produce of his hunting. Such were 

450 the first specimens that we met — and very indifferent 
ones they were — of the genuine savages of the prairie. 
They were the Pawnees whom Kearsley had en- 
countered the day before, and belonged to a large 
hunting party, known to be ranging the prairie in 

455 the vicinity. They strode rapidly past, within a 
furlong of our tents, not pausing or looking toward 
us, after the manner of Indians when meditating mis- 
chief or conscious of ill desert. I went out and 
met them; and had an amicable conference with the 



72 THE OREGON TRAIL 

460 chief, presenting him with half a pound of tobacco, 
at which unmerited bounty he expressed much grati- 
fication. These fellows or some of their compan- 
ions, had committed a dastardly outrage upon an emi- 
grant party in advance of us. Two men, out on horse- 

465 back at a distance, were seized by them, but lashing 
their horses, they broke loose and fled. At this the 
Pawnees raised the yell and shot at them, transfixing 
the hindermost through the back with several arrows, 
while his companion galloped away and brought in the 

4 70 news to his party. The panic-stricken emigrants 
remained for several days in camp, not daring even 
to send out in quest of the dead body. 

The reader will recollect Turner, the man whose 
narrow escape was mentioned not long since. We 

475 heard that the men, whom the entreaties of his wife 
induced to go in search of him, found him leisurely 
driving along his recovered oxen, and whistling in 
utter contempt of the Pawnee nation. His party 
was encamped within two miles of us; but we passed 

480 them that morning, while the men were driving in 
the oxen, and the women packing their domestic 
utensils and their numerous offspring in the spacious 
patriarchal wagons. As we looked back we saw 
their caravan dragging its slow length along the 

485 plain; wearily toiling on its way to found new em- 
pires in the West. 

Our New England climate is mild and equable 
compared with that -of the Platte. This very morn- 
ing, for instance, was close and sultry, the sun rising 

490 with a faint oppressive heat; when suddenly dark- 
ness gathered in the west, and a furious blast of sleet 
and hail drove full in our faces, icy cold, and urged 
with such demoniac vehemence that it felt like a 
storm of needles. It was curious to see the horses; 

49 5 they faced about in extreme displeasure, holding 
their tails like whipped dogs, and shivering as the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 73 

angry gusts, howling louder than a concert of wolves, 
swept over us. Wright's long train of mules came 
sweeping round before the storm, like a flight of 
soobrown snow-birds driven by a winter tempest. Thus 
we all remained stationary for some minutes, crouch- 
ing close to our horses' necks, much too surly to 
speak, though once the Captain looked up from be- 
tween the collars of his coat, his face blood-red and 
505the muscles of his mouth contracted by the cold into 
a most ludicrous grin of agony. He grumbled some- 
thing that sounded like a curse, directed as we be- 
lieved, against the unhappy hour when he had hrst 
thought of leaving home. The thing was too good 
.loto last long; and the instant the puffs of wmd sub- 
sided we erected our tents, and remained m caxrip 
for the rest of a gloomy and lowering day. ihe 
emigrants also encamped near at hand. We being 
first on the ground, had appropriated all the wood 
SX5 within reach; so that our fire alone blazed cheerily. 
Around it soon gathered a group of uncouth figures, 
shivering in the drizzling rain. Conspicuous among 
them were two or three of the half-savage men who 
spend their reckless fives in trapping among the Rocky 
,3o Mountains, or in trading for the Fur Company m the 
' Indian viUages. They were aU of Canadian extraction ; 
their hard, weather-beaten faces and bushy moustaches 
looked out from beneath the hoods of their white capotes 
with a bad and brutish expression, as if their owner 
525 might be the wiUing agent of any villainy. And such 
in fact is the character of many of these men. ^ 

On the day following, we overtook Kearsley s 
wagons, and thenceforward, for a week or two we 
were fellow-traveUers. One good efl:^ect, at^ least 
53oresuUed from the afiiance; it materially dimmished 
the serious fatigues of standing guard; for the party 
being now more numerous, there were longer intervals 
between each man's turns of duty. 






CHAPTER VII 

THE BUFFALO 

"Twice twenty leagues 
Beyond remotest smoke of hunter's camp, 
Roams the majestic brute, in herds that shake 
The earth with thundering steps. " — Bryant 

5 Four days on the Platte, and yet no buffalo! Last 
year's signs of them were provokingly abundant; 
and wood being extremely scarce, we found an ad- 
mirable substitute in the bois de vache, which burns 
exactly like peat, producing no unpleasant effects. 

loThe wagons one morning had left the camp; Shaw 
and I were already on horseback, but Henry Chatillon 
still sat cross-legged by the dead embers of the fire, 
playing pensively with the lock of his rifle, while his 
sturdy Wyandot pony stood quietly behind him, 

1 5 looking over his head. At last he got up, patted the 
neck of the pony (whom, from an exaggerated appre- 
ciation of his merits, he had christened ''Five Hundred 
Dollar"), and then mounted with a melancholy air. 
"What is it, Henry?" 

20 ''Ah, I feel lonesome; I never been here before; 
but I see away yonder over the buttes, and down 
there on the prairie, black — all black with buffalo!" 

In the afternoon he and I left the party in search 
of an antelope; until at the distance of a mile or 

2 5 two on the right, the tall white wagons and the little 
black specks of horsemen were just visible, so slowly 
advancing that they seemed motionless; and far 
on the left rose the broken line of scorched, desolate 
sand-hills. The vast plain waved with tall rank grass 

30 that swept our horses' bellies; it swayed to and fro 
74 



THE OREGON TRAIL 75 

in billows with the light breeze, and far and near ante- 
lope and wolves were moving through it, the hairy 
backs of the latter aUernately appearing and dis- 
appearing as they bounded awkwardly along; while 

3 5 the antelope with the simple curiosity peculiar to them 

would often approach us closely, their little horns and 
white throats just visible above the grass tops, as they 
gazed eagerly at us with their round black eyes. 
I dismounted and amused myself with firing at 
40 the wolves. Henry attentively scrutinized the sur- 
rounding landscape; at length he gave a shout, and 
called on me to mount again, pointing m the direc- 
tion of the sand-hills. A mile and a half from us 
two minute black specks slowly traversed the face 

4 5 of one of the bare glaring declivities, and disap- 

peared behind the summit. "Let us gol" cried 
Henry, belaboring the sides of "Five Hundred Dol- 
lar"; and I following in his wake, we galloped rapidly 
through the rank grass toward the base of the hills. 

50 From one of their openings descended a deep 
ravine, widening as it issued on the prairie. We 
entered it, and galloping up, in a moment were sur- 
rounded by the bleak sand-hills. Half of their steep 
sides were bare; the rest were scantily clothed \yith 

5 5 clumps of grass and various uncouth plants, conspicu- 
ous among which appeared the reptile-like prickly- 
pear. They were gashed with numberless ravines; 
and as the sky had suddenly darkened, and a cold 
gusty wind arisen, the strange shrubs and the dreary 

60 hills looked doubly wild and desolate. But Henr)^'s 
face was all eagerness. He tore off a little hair from 
the piece of buffalo-robe under his saddle and threw 
it up, to show the course of the wind. It blew directly 
before us. The game were therefore to windward, 
6 5 and it was necessary to make our best speed to get 
around them. 



76 THE OREGON TRAIL 

We scrambled from this ravine, and galloping 
away through the hollows, soon found another, 
winding like a snake among the hills, and so deep 

70 that it completely concealed us. We rode up the 
bottom of it, glancing through the shrubbery at its 
edge, till Henry abruptly jerked his rein and slid 
out of his saddle. Full a quarter of a mile distant, 
on the outline of the farthest hill, a long procession 

7 5 of buffalo were walking, in Indian file, with the 
utmost gravity and deliberation; then more ap- 
peared, clambering from a hollow not far off, and 
ascending, one behind the other, the grassy slope 
of another hill; then a shaggy head and a pair of 

80 short broken horns appeared issuing out of a ravine 
close at hand, and with a slow, stately step, one by 
one, the enormous brutes came into view, taking 
their way across the valley, wholly unconscious of 
an enemy. In a moment Henry was worming his 

85 way, lying flat on the ground, through grass and 
prickly-pears, toward his unsuspecting victims. He 
had with him both my rifle and his own. He was 
soon out of sight, and still the buffalo kept issuing 
into the valley. For a long time all was silent; I 

90 sat holding his horse and wondering what he was 
about, when suddenly, in rapid succession, came 
the sharp reports of the two rifles, and the whole line 
of buffalo, quickening their pace into a clumsy trot, 
gradually disappeared over the ridge of the hill. 

95 Henry rose to his feet, and stood looking after them. 

"You have missed them," said I. 

"Yes," said Henry; "let us go." He descended 

into the ravine, loaded the rifles, and mounted his horse. 

We rode up the hill after the buft'alo. The herd 

1 00 was out of sight when we reached the top, but lying 
on the grass, not far off, was one quite lifeless, and 
another violently struggling in the death agony. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 77 

''You see I miss him!" remarked Henry. He 
had fired from a distance of more than a hundred 

I o 5 and fifty yards, and both balls had passed through 

the lungs, the true mark in shooting buffalo. 

The darkness increased, and a driving storm 
came on. Tying our horses to the horns of the vic- 
tims, Henry began the bloody work of dissection, 

I I o slashing away with the science of a connoisseur, 

while I vainly endeavored to imitate him. Old 
Hendrick recoiled with horror and indignation when 
I endeavored to tie the meat to the strings of raw- 
hide, always carried for this purpose, dangling at 

1 1 5 the back of the saddle. After some difficulty we 
overcame his scruples; and heavily burdened with 
the more eligible portions of the buffalo, we set out 
on our return. Scarcely had we emerged from the 
labyrinth of gorges and ravines, and issued upon 

1 20 the open prairie, when the prickling sleet came driv- 
ing, gust upon gust, directly in our faces. It was 
strangely dark, though wanting still an hour of sun- 
set. The freezing storm soon penetrated to the 
skin, but the uneasy trot of our heavy-gaited horses 

1 2 5 kept us warm enough, as we forced them unwillingly 
in the teeth of the sleet and rain by the powerful 
suasion of our Indian whips. The prairie in this 
place was hard and level. A flourishing colony of 
prairie-dogs had burrowed into it in every direction, 

1 30 and the little mounds of fresh earth around their 
holes were about as numerous as the hills in a corn- 
field; but not a yelp was to be heard; not the nose 
of a single citizen was visible; all had retired to the 
depths of their burrows, and we envied them their 

1 35 dry and comfortable habitations. An hour's hard 
riding showed us our tent dimly looming through 
the storm, one side puft'ed out by the force of the 
wind, and the other collapsed in proportion, while 



78 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the disconsolate horses stood shivering close around, 

1 40 and the wind kept up a dismal whistling in the boughs 
of three old half-dead trees above. Shaw, like a pa- 
triarch, sat on his saddle in the entrance, with a pipe 
in his mouth, and his arms folded, contemplating, 
wath cool satisfaction, the piles of meat that we flung 

1 45 on the ground before him. A dark and dreary night 
succeeded; but the sun rose with a heat so sultry 
and languid that the Captain excused himseK on that 
account from waylaying an old buffalo-bull, who with 
stupid gravity was walking over the prairie to drink 

1 50 at the river. So much for the climate of the Platte! 
But it was not the weather alone that had pro- 
duced this sudden abatement of the sportsman-like 
zeal which the Captain had always professed. He 
had been out on the afternoon before, together with 

155 several members of his party; but their hunting 
was attended with no other result than the loss of 
one of their best horses, severely injured by Sorel, 
in vainly chasing a wounded bull. The Captain, 
whose ideas of hard riding were all derived from 

1 60 transatlantic sources, expressed the utmost amaze- 
ment at the feats of Sorel, who went leaping ravines, and 
dashing at full speed up and down the sides of precipi- 
tous hills, lashing his horse with the recklessness of 
a Rocky Mountain rider. Unfortunately for the poor 

165 animal, he was the property of R., against whom 
Sorel entertained an unbounded aversion. The Cap- 
tain himself, it seemed, had also attempted to "run" 
a buffalo, but though a good and practised horseman, 
he had soon given over the attempt, being astonished 

1 70 and utterly disgusted at the nature of the ground he 
was required to ride over. 

Nothing unusual occurred on that day; but on 
the following morning, Henry Chatillon, looking 
over the ocean-like expanse, saw near the foot of the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



79 



1 75 distant hills something that looked like a band of 
buffalo. He was not sure, he said, but at all events, 
if they were buffalo, there was a fine chance for a race. 
Shaw and I at once determined to try the speed of our 
horses. 

180 *'Come, Captain, we'll see which can ride hardest, 
a Yankee or an Irishman." 

But the Captain maintained a grave and austere 
countenance. He mounted his led horse, however, 
though very slowly, and we set out at a trot. The 

185 game appeared about three miles distant. As we 
proceeded, the Captain made various remarks of 
doubt and indecision; and at length declared he 
would have nothing to do with such a break-neck 
business; protesting that he had ridden plenty of 

1 90 steeple- chases in his day, but he never knew what 
riding was till he found himself behind a band of 
buffalo day before yesterday. "I am convinced," 
said the Captain, "that 'running' is out of the ques- 
tion.* Take my advice now, and don't attempt it. 

195 It's dangerous, and of no use at all." 

"Then why did you come out with us? What do 
you mean to do?" 

"I shall 'approach,'" repHed the Captain. 

"You don't mean to 'approach' with your pistols, 

200 do you ? We have all of us left our rifles in the wagons." 

The Captain seemed staggered at this suggestion. 

In his characteristic indecision at setting out, pistols, 

rifles, "running," and "approaching" were mingled 

in an inextricable medley in his brain. He trotted 

205 on in silence between us for a while; but at length 

*The method of hunting called "running" consists in attacking 
the buffalo on horseback, and shooting him with bullets or arrows 
when at full speed. In "approaching" the hunter conceals him- 
self and crawls on the ground toward the game, or lies in wait to 
kill them. 



8o THE OREGON TRAIL' 

he dropped behind, and slowly walked his horse back 
to rejoin the party. Shaw and I kept on; when lo! 
as we advanced, the band of buffalo were transformed 
into certain clumps of tall bushes, dotting the prairie 

2 1 o for a considerable distance. At this ludicrous termina- 
tion of our chase we followed the example of our late 
ally, and turned back toward the party. We were 
skirting the brink of a deep ravine, when we saw 
Henry and the broad-chested pony coming toward 

2 1 5 us at a gallop. 

"Here's old Papin and Frederic, down from Fort 
Laramie!" shouted Henry, long before he came up. 
We had for some days expected this encounter. Papin 
was the bourgeois of Fort Laramie. He had come 

2 2odown the river with the buffalo-robes and the beaver, 
the produce of the last winter's trading. I had among 
our baggage a letter which I wished to commit to 
their hands; so requesting Henry to detain the boats 
if he could until my return, I set out after the wagons. 

2 25 They were about four miles in advance. In half an 
hour I overtook them, got the letter, trotted back upon 
the trail, and looking carefully as I rode, saw a patch 
of broken, storm-blasted trees, and moving near them 
some little black specks like men and horses. Ar- 

2 30 riving at the place, I found a strange assembly. The 
boats, eleven in number, deep-laden with the skins, 
hugged close to the shore to escape being borne 
down by the swift current. The rowers, swarthy 
ignoble Mexicans, turned their brutish faces upward 

235 to look as I reached the bank. Papin sat in the middle 
of one of the boats, upon the canvas covering that pro- 
tected the robes. He was a stout, robust fellow, 
with a little gray eye that had a peculiarly sly twinkle. 
"Frederic," also, stretched his tall raw-boned propor- 

2 4otions close by the bourgeois, and "mountain men" 
completed the group; some lounging in the boats. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 8r 

some strolling on shore; some attired in gayly painted 
buffalo -robes, like Indian dandies; some with hair 
saturated with red paint, and be-plastered with glue 

245 to their temples; and one bedaubed with vermilion 
upon the forehead and each cheek. They were a 
mongrel race; yet the French blood seemed to pre- 
dominate: in a few, indeed, might be seen the black, 
snaky eye of the Indian half breed, and one and all, 

2 50 they seemed to aim at assimilating themselves to their 
savage associates. 

I shook hands with the bourgeois, and delivered 
the letter : then the boats swung round into the stream, 
and floated away. They had reason for haste, for 

255 already the voyage from Fort Laramie had occupied 
a full month, and the river was growing daily more 
shallow. Fifty times a day the boats had been 
aground; indeed, those who navigate the Platte in- 
variably spend half their time upon sand-bars. Two 

2 60 of these boats, the property of private traders, after- 
ward separating from the rest, got hopelessly involved 
in the shallows, not very far from the Pawnee villages, 
and were soon surrounded by a swarm of the inhabi- 
tants. They carried off everything that they con- 

2 65sidered valuable, including most of the robes; and 
amused themselves by tying up the men left on guard 
and soundly whipping them with sticks. 

We encamped that night upon the bank of the river. 
Among the emigrants there was an over-grown boy, 

2 70 some eighteen years old, with a head as round and 
about as large as a pumpkin, and fever-and-ague fits 
had dyed his face of a corresponding color. He w^ore 
an old white hat, tied under his chin with a handker- 
chief; his body was short and stout, but his legs of 

2 7 5 disproportioned and appalling length. I observed 
him at sunset breasting the hill with gigantic strides, 
and standing against the sky on the summit like a 



82 THE OREGON TRAIL 

colossal pair of tongs. In a moment after we heard 
him screaming frantically behind the ridge, and nothing 

2 80 doubting that he was in the clutches of Indians or 
grizzly bears, some of the party caught up their rifles 
and ran to the rescue. His outcries, however, proved 
but an ebullition of joyous excitement; he had chased 
two little wolf pups to their burrow, and he was on 

285 his knees, grubbing away like a dog at the mouth of 
the hole, to get at them. 

Before morning he caused more serious disquiet 
in the camp. It was his turn to hold the middle- 
guard ; but no sooner was he called up than he coolly 

290 arranged a pair of saddle-bags under a wagon, laid 
his head upon them, closed his eyes, opened his mouth, 
and fell asleep. The guard on our side of the camp, 
thinking it no part of his duty to look after the 
cattle of the emigrants, contented himself with watch- 

295 ing our own horses and mules; the wolves, he said, 
were unusually noisy; but still no mischief was 
anticipated until the sun rose, and not a hoof or horn 
was in sight! The cattle were gone! While Tom was 
quietly slumbering, the wolves had driven them away. 

300 Then we reaped the fruits of R.'s precious plan 
of travelling in company with emigrants. To leave 
them in their distress was not to be thought of, and 
we felt bound to wait until the cattle could be searched 
for, and, if possible, recovered. But the reader may be 

305 curious to know what punishment awaited the faithless 
Tom. By the wholesome law of the prairie, he who 
falls asleep on guard is condemned to walk all day, 
leading his horse by the bridle, and we found much 
fault with our companions for not enforcing such a 

3 10 sentence on the offender. Nevertheless, had he been 
of our own party I have no doubt that he would in like 
manner have escaped scot-free. But the emigrants 
went farther than mere forbearance: they decreed 



THE OREGON TRAIL 83 

that since Tom couldn't stand guard without falling 

315 asleep, he shouldn't stand guard at all, and hencefor- 
ward his slumbers were unbroken. Establishing such 
a premium on drowsiness could have no very bene- 
ficial effect upon the vigilance of our sentinels; for it 
is far from agreeable, after riding from sunrise to sun- 

320 set, to feel your slumbers interrupted by the butt of a 

rifle nudging your side, and a sleepy voice growling in 

your ear that you must get up, to shiver and freeze for 

three weary hours at midnight. 

''Buffalo! Buffalo!" It was but a grim old bull, 

325 roaming the prairie by himself in misanthropic se- 
clusion; but there might be more behind the hills. 
Dreading the monotony and languor of the camp, 
Shaw and I saddled our horses, buckled our holsters 
in their places, and set out with Henry Chatillon in 

330 search of the game. Henry, not intending to take 
part in the chase, but merely conducting us, carried 
his rifle with him, while we left ours behind as incum- 
brances. We rode for some five or six miles, and saw 
no living thing but wolves, snakes, ^nd prairie-dogs. 

335 "This won't do at all," said Shaw. 
"What won't do?" 

"There's no wood about here to make a litter for 
the wounded man; I have an idea that one of us 
will need something of the sort before the day is 

34oover." 

There was some foundation for such an appre- 
hension, for the ground was none of the best for a 
race, and grew worse continually as we proceeded; 
indeed it soon became desperately bad, consisting 

345 of abrupt hills and deep hollows, cut by frequent 
ravines not easy to pass. At length, a mile in ad- 
vance, we saw a band of bulls. Some were scat- 
tered grazing over a green declivity, while the rest 
were crowded more densely together in the wide 



84 THE OREGON TRAIL 

350 hollow below. Making a circuit, to keep out of 
sight, we rode toward them, until we ascended a 
hill, within a furlong of them, beyond which nothing 
intervened that could possibly screen us from their 
view. We dismounted behind the ridge just out of 

355 sight, drew our saddle-girths, examined our pistols, 
and mounting again, rode over the hill, and de- 
scended at a canter toward them, bending close to 
our horses' necks. Instantly they took the alarm; 
those on the hill descended; those below gathered 

360 into a mass, and the whole got in motion, shoul- 
dering each other along at a clumsy gallop. We 
followed, spurring our horses to full speed; and as 
the herd rushed, crowding and trampling in terror, 
through an opening in the hills, we were close at 

365 their heels, half suffocated by the clouds of dust. 
But as we drew near their alarm and speed increased ; 
our horses showed signs of the utmost fear, bounding 
violently aside as we approached, and refusing to enter 
among the herd. The buifalo now broke into several 

3 70 small bodies, scampering over the hills in different 
directions, and I lost sight of Shaw; neither of us 
knew where the other had gone. Old Pontiac ran 
like a frantic elephant up hill and down hill, his 
ponderous hoofs striking the prairie like sledge- 

375 hammers. He showed a curious mixture of eager- 
ness and terror, straining to overtake the panic-stricken 
herd, but constantly recoiling in dismay as we drew 
near. The fugitives, indeed, offered no very at- 
tractive spectacle, with their enormous size and 

380 weight, their shaggy manes and the tattered rem- 
nants of their last winter's hair covering their backs 
in irregular shreds and patches, and flying off in the 
wind as they ran. At length I urged my horse close 
behind a bull, and after trying in vain, by blows and 

3 85 spurring, to bring him along-side, I shot a bullet into 



THE OREGON TRAIL 85 

the buffalo from this disadvantageous position. At 
the report, Pontiac swerved so much that I was again 
thrown a little behind the game. The bullet entering 
too much in the rear, failed to disable the bull, for a 

390 buffalo requires to be shot at particular points, or he 
will certainly escape. The herd ran up a hill, and I 
followed in pursuit. As Pontiac rushed headlong 
down on the other side, I saw Shaw and Henry descend- 
ing the hollow on the right at a leisurely gallop; and 

395 in front the buffalo were just disappearing behind the 
crest of the next hill, their short tails erect, and their 
hoofs twinkling through a cloud of dust. 

At that moment I heard Shaw and Henry shout- 
ing to me; but the muscles of a stronger arm than 
mine could not have checked at once the furious 
course of Pontiac, whose mouth was as insensible as 
leather. x\dded to this, I rode him that morning 
with a common snaffle, having the day before, for 
the benefit of my other horse, unbuckled from my 

405 bridle the curb which I ordinarily used. A stronger 
and harder brute never trod the prairie; but the 
novel sight of the buffalo filled him wdth terror, and 
when at full speed he was almost uncontrollable. 
Gaining the top of the ridge, I saw nothing of the 

4 10 buffalo; they had all vanished amid the intricacies 
of the hills and hollows. Reloading my pistols, in 
the best way I could, I galloped on until I saw them 
again scuttling along at the base of the hill, their 
panic somewhat abated. Down wxnt old Pontiac 

41 5 among them, scattering them to the right and left, 
and then we had another long chase. About a dozen 
bulls were before us, scouring over the hills, rushing 
down the declivities with tremendous weight and 
impetuosity, and then laboring with a weary gallop 

420 upward. Still, Pontiac, in spite of spurring and beat- 
ing, would not close with them. One bull at length 



86 THE OREGON TRAIL 

fell a little behind the rest, and by dint of much effort, 
I urged my horse within six or eight yards of his side. 
His back was darkened with sweat; he was panting 

425 heavily, while his tongue lolled out a foot from his 
jaws. Gradually I came up abreast of him, urging 
Pontiac with leg and rein nearer to his side, when sud- 
denly he did what buffalo in such circumstances will 
always do; he slackened his gallop, and turning 

430 toward us, with an aspect of mingled rage and distress, 
lowered his huge shaggy head for a charge. Pontiac, 
with a snort, leaped aside in terror, nearly throwing 
me to the ground, as I was wholly unprepared for such 
an evolution. I raised my pistol in a passion to strike 

435 him on the head, but thinking better of it, fired the 
bullet after the bull, who had resumed his flight; 
then drew rein, and determined to rejoin my com- 
panions. It was high time. The breath blew hard 
from Pontiac's nostrils, and the sweat rolled in big 

440 drops down his sides; I myself felt as if drenched in 
warm water. Pledging myself (and I redeemed the 
pledge) to take my revenge at a future opportunity, I 
looked around for some indications to show me where 
I was, and what course I ought to pursue; I might 

445 as well have looked for landmarks in the midst of 
the ocean. How many miles I had run, or in what 
direction, I had no idea; and around me the prairie 
was rolling in steep swells and pitches, without a 
single distinctive feature to guide me. I had a little 

450 compass hung at my neck; and ignorant that the 
Platte at this point diverged considerably from its 
easterly course, I thought that by keeping to the 
northward I should certainly reach it. So I turned 
and rode about two hours in that direction. The 

455 prairie changed as I advanced, softening away into 
easier undulations, but nothing like the Platte ap- 
peared, nor any sign of a human being; the same 



THE OREGON TRAIL 87 

wild endless expanse lay around me still; and to all 
appearance I was as far from my object as ever. I 

460 began now to consider myself in danger of being 
lost; and therefore, reining in my horse, summoned 
the scanty share of woodcraft that I possessed (if 
that term be applicable upon the prairie) to extricate 
me. Looking around, it occurred to me that the 

46 5 buffalo might prove my best guides. I soon found 
one of the paths made by them in their passage to 
the river; it ran nearly at right angles to my course; 
but turning my horse's head in the direction it indicated, 
his freer gait and erected ears assured me that I was 

470 right. 

But in the meantime my ride had been by no means 
a solitary one. The whole face of the country saw 
dotted far and wide with countless hundreds of buffalo. 
They trooped along in files and columns, bulls, cows, 

475 and calves, on the green faces of the declivities in front. 
They scrambled away over the hills to the right and 
left; and far off, the pale blue swells in the extreme 
distance were dotted with innumerable specks. Some- 
times I surprised shaggy old bulls grazing alone, or 

480 sleeping behind the ridges I ascended. They would 
leap up at my approach, stare stupidly at me through 
their tangled manes, and then gallop heavily away. 
The antelope were very numerous; and as they are 
always bold when in the neighborhood of buffalo, 

485 they would approach quite near to look at me, gazing 
intently with their great round eyes, then suddenly leap 
aside, and stretch lightly away over the prairie, as 
swiftly as a race-horse. Squalid, ruffian-like wolves 
sneaked through the hollows and sandy ravines. 

490 Several times I passed through villages of prairie- 
dogs, who sat, each at the mouth of his burrow, holding 
his paws before him in a supplicating attitude, and 
yelping away most vehemently, energetically whisking 



88 THE OREGON TRAIL 

his little tail with every squeaking cry he uttered. 

495 Prairie-dogs are not fastidious in their choice of com- 
panions; various long, checkered snakes were sunning 
themselves in the midst of the village, and demure little 
gray owls, with a large white ring around each eye, 
were perched side by side with the rightful inhabitants. 

500 The prairie teemed with life. Again and again I 
looked toward the crowded hill-sides, and was sure 
I saw horsemen; and riding near, with a mixture of 
hope and dread, for Indians were abroad, I found 
them transformed into a group of buffalo. There 

505 was nothing in human shape amid all this vast con- 
gregation of brute forms. 

When I turned down the buffalo-path the prairie 
seemed changed ; only a wolf or two glided past at inter- 
vals like conscious felons, never looking to the right or 

510 left. Being now free from anxiety, I was at leisure to 
observe minutely the objects around me; and here, 
for the first time, I noticed insects wholly different 
from any of the varieties found farther to the east- 
ward. Gaudy butterflies fluttered about my horse's 

51 5 head; strangely formed beetles, glittering with me- 
taflic lustre, were crawling upon plants that I had 
never seen before; multitudes of lizards, too, were 
darting like lightning over the sand. 

I had run to a great distance from the river. It 

520 cost me a long ride on the buffalo-path before I saw, 
from the ridge of a sand-hill, the pale surface of 
the Platte glistening in the midst of its desert val- 
leys, and the faint outline of the hills beyond wav- 
ing along the sky. From where I stood not a tree 

52 5 nor a bush nor a hving thing was visible throughout 
the whole extent of the sun-scorched landscape. 
In half an hour I came upon the trail, not far from 
the river; and seeing that the party had not yet 
passed ; I turned eastward to meet them, old Pontiac's 



THE OREGON TRAIL 89 

530 long swinging trot again assuring me that I was right 
in doing so. Having been sHghtly ill on leaving camp 
in the morning, six or seven hours of rough riding had 
fatigued me extremely. I soon stopped, therefore; 
flung my saddle on the ground, and with my head rest- 

535 ing on it, and my horse's trail-rope tied loosely to my 
arm, lay waiting the arrival of the party, speculatmg 
meanwhile on the extent of the injuries Pontiac had 
received. At length the white wagon coverings rose 
from the verge of the plain. By a singular coincidence, 

540 almost at the same moment two horsemen appeared 
coming down from the hills. They were Shaw and 
Henry, who had searched for me awhile in the morn- 
ing, but well knowing the futility of the attempt in 
such a broken country, had placed themselves on the 

545 top of the highest hill they could find, and picketing 
their horses near them, as a signal to me, had lain down 
and fallen asleep. The stray cattle had been recovered 
as the emigrants told us, about noon. Before sunset, 
we pushed forward eight miles farther. 

550 "June 7, 1846 — Four men are missing: R., Sorel, and two 
emigrants. They set out this morning after buffalo, and have 
not yet made their appearance; whether killed or lost, we cannot 
tell." 

I find the above in my note-book, and well re- 

555 member the council held on the occasion. Our fire 
was the scene of it; for the palpable superiority of 
Henry Chatillon's experience and skill made him 
the resort of the whole camp upon every question 
of difficulty. He was moulding bullets at the fire 

5 60 when the Captain drew near, with a perturbed and 
care-worn expression of countenance, faithfully re- 
flected on the heavy features of Jack, who followed 
close behind. Then emigrants came straggling from 
their wagons toward the common centre; various 
565 suggestions were made to account for the absence of 



90 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the four men; and one or two of the emigrants decla,red 
that when out after the cattle, they had seen Indians 
dogging them, and crawHng like wolves along the 
ridges of the hills. At this the Captain slowly shook 

5 70 his head with double gravity, and solemnly remarked: 
"It's a serious thing to be travelling through this 
cursed wilderness"; an opinion in which Jack im- 
mediately expressed a thorough coincidence. Henry 
would not commit himself by declaring any positive 

5 75 opinion: 

''Maybe he only follow the buffalo too far; maybe 
Indian kill him; maybe he got lost; I cannot tell!" 
With this the auditors were obliged to rest con- 
tent; the emigrants, not in the least alarmed, though 

580 curious to know what had become of their comrades, 
walked back to their wagons, and the Captain betook 
himself pensively to his tent. Shaw and I followed his 
example. 

"It will be a bad thing for our plans," said he as 

585 we entered, "if these fellows don't get back safe. 
The Captain is as helpless on the prairie as a child. 
We shall have to take him and his brother in tow ; they 
will hang on us like lead." 

"The prairie is a stranger place," said I. "A 

590 month ago I should have thought it rather a start- 
ling affair to have an acquaintance ride out in the 
morning and lose his scalp before night, but here it 
seems the most natural thing in the world; not that 
I believe that R. has lost his yet." 

595 If a man is constitutionally liable to nervous appre- 
hensions, a tour on the distant prairies would prove 
the best prescription; for though when in the neigh- 
borhood of the Rocky Mountains he may at times find 
himself placed in circumstances of some danger, I 

600 believe that few ever breathe that reckless atmo- 
sphere without becoming almost indifferent to any 



THE OREGON TRAIL 91 

€vil chance that may befall themselves or their 
friends. 

Shaw had a propensity for luxurious indulgence. 
605 He spread his blanket with the utmost accuracy on 
the ground, picked up the sticks and stones that he 
thought might interfere with his comfort, adjusted 
his saddle to serve as a pillow, and composed him- 
self for his night's rest. I had the first guard that 
610 evening; so, taking my rifle, I went out of the tent. 
It was perfectly dark. A brisk wind blew down 
from the hills, and the sparks from the fire were 
streaming over the prairie. One of the emigrants 
named Morton, was my companion; and laying 
61 5 our rifles on the grass we sat down together by the 
fire. Morton was a Kentuckian, an athletic fellow, 
with a fine, intelligent face, and in his manners and 
conversation he showed the essential characteristics 
of a gentleman. Our conversation turned on the 
620 pioneers of his gallant native state. The three hours 
of our watch dragged away at last, and we went to call 
up the relief. 

R.'s guard succeeded mine. He was absent; 
but the Captain, anxious lest the camp should be 
62 5 left defenceless, had volunteered to stand in his 
place; so I went to wake him up. There was no 
occasion for it, for the Captain had been awake since 
nightfall. A fire was blazing outside of the tent, 
and by the light which struck through the canvas I 
630 saw him and Jack lying on their backs with their 
eyes wide open. The Captain responded instantly 
to my call; he jumped up, seized the double-bar- 
relled rifle, and came out of the tent with an air of 
solemn determination, as if about to devote him- 
635 self to the safety of the party. I went and lay down, 
not doubting that for the next three hours our slum- 
bers would be guarded with sufficient vigilance. 



CHAPTER VIII 

TAKING FRENCH LEAVE 
"Parting is such sweet sorrow!" — Romeo and Juliet 

On the eighth of June, at eleven o'clock, we reached 
the South Fork of the Platte, at the usual fording- 
place. For league upon league the desert uniformity 
5 of the prospect was almost unbroken; the hills were 
dotted with little tufts of shrivelled grass, but betwixt 
these the white sand was glaring in the sun; and the 
channel of the river, almost on a level with the plain, 
was but one great sand-bed about half a mile wide. 

lolt was covered with water, but so scantily that the 
bottom was scarcely hidden; for, wide as it is, the 
average depth of the Platte does not at this point 
exceed a foot and a half. Stopping near its bank, we 
gathered bois de vache, and made a meal of buffalo- 

15 meat. Far off, on the other side, was a green meadow, 
where we could see the white tents and wagons of an 
emigrant camp; and just opposite to us we could dis- 
cern a group of men and animals at the water's edge. 
Four or five horsemen soon entered the river, and 

20 in ten minutes had waded across and clambered up 
the loose sand-bank. They were ill-looking fellows, 
thin and swarthy, with care-worn, anxious faces, and 
lips rigidly compressed. They had good cause for 
anxiety; it was three days since they first encamped 

2 5 here, and on the night of their arrival they had lost 
one hundred and twenty-three of their best cattle, 
driven off by the wolves, through the negelct of the 
man on guard. This discouraging and alarming 
calamity was not the first that had overtaken them. 
92 



THE OREGON TRAIL 93 

30 Since leaving the settlements they had met with 
nothing but misfortune. Some of their party had 
died; one man had been killed by the Pawnees; 
and about a week before they had been plundered 
by the Dahcotahs of all their best horses, the wretched 
35 animals on which our visitors were mounted bemg 
the only ones that were left. They had encamped, 
they told us, near sunset, by the side of the Platte, 
and their oxen were scattered over the meadow, while 
the band of horses were feeding a little farther off. 
40 Suddenly the ridges of the hills were alive with a 
swarm of mounted Indians, at least six hundred m 
number, who, with a tremendous yell, came pouring 
down toward the camp, rushing up within a few rods, 
to the great terror of the emigrants; but suddenly 
45 wheeling, they swept around the band of horses, and 
in five minutes had disappeared with their prey through 
the openings of the hills. 

As these emigrants were telling their story, we 
saw four other men approaching. They proved to 
5obe R. and his companions, who had encountered no 
mischance of any kind, but had only wandered too 
far in pursuit of the game. They said they had 
seen no Indians, but only '^ millions of buffalo ; 
and both R. and Sorel had meat dangling behind 
5 5 their saddles. 

The emigrants recrossed the river, and we pre- 
pared to follow. First the heavy ox-wagons plunged 
down the bank, and dragged slowly over the sand- 
beds; sometimes the hoofs of the oxen were scarcely 
60 wetted bv the thin sheet of water; and the next 
moment \he river would be boiling against their 
sides, and eddying fiercely around the wheels. Inch 
by inch they receded from the shore, dwindling 
every moment, until at length they seemed to be 
65 floating far out in the very middle of the river. A 



94 THE OREGON TRAIL 

more critical experiment awaited us; for our little 
mule-cart was but ill-fitted for the passage of so 
swift a stream. We watched it with anxiety till it 
seemed to be a little motionless white speck in the 

70 midst of the watei's; and it was motionless, for it 
had stuck fast in a quicksand. The little mules 
were losing their footing, the wheels were sinking 
deeper and deeper, and the water began to rise through 
the bottom and drench the goods within. All of us 

7 5 who had remained on the hither bank galloped to the 
rescue; the men jumped into the water, adding 
their strength to that of the mules, until by much 
effort the cart was extricated and conveyed in safety 
across. 

80 As we gained the other bank a rough group of 
men surrounded us. They were not robust, nor 
large of frame, yet they had an aspect of hardy en- 
durance. Finding at home no scope for their fiery 
energies, they had betaken themselves to the prairie; 

8 5 and in them seemed to be revived, with redoubled 
force, that fierce spirit which impelled their ancestors, 
scarce more lawless than themselves, from the Ger- 
man forests, to inundate Europe and break to pieces 
the Roman Empire. A fortnight afterward this un- 

90 fortunate party passed Fort Laramie while we were 
there. Not one of their missing oxen had been re- 
covered, though they had remained encamped 
a week in search of them ; and they had been compelled 
to abandon a great part of their baggage and pro- 

9 5 visions, and yoke cows and heifers to their wagons to 
carry them forward upon their journey, the most 
toilsome and hazardous part of which lay still before 
them. 

It is worth noticing that on the Platte one may 
100 sometimes see the shattered wrecks of ancient claw- 
footed tables, well waxed and rubbed, or massive 



THE OREGON TRAIL 95 



bureaus of carved oak. These, many of them no 
doubt the relics of ancestral prosperity in the colonial 
time, must have encountered strange vicissitudes. 
105 Imported, perhaps, originally from England; then, 
with the declining fortunes of their owners, borne 
across the AUeghanies to the remote wilderness of 
Ohio or Kentucky; then to Illinois or Missouri; 
and now at last fondly stowed away in the family 
1 10 wagon for the interminable journey to Oregon. But 
the stern privations of the way are little anticipated. 
The cherished relic is soon flung out to scorch and 
crack upon the hot prairie. 

We resumed our journey; but we had gone scarcely 
115a mile when R. called out from the rear: 
''We'll camp here!" 

"Why do you want to camp? Look at the sun. 
It is not three o'clock yet." 
"We'll camp herel" 
120 This was the only reply vouchsafed. Delorier 
was in advance with his cart. Seeing the mule-wagon 
wheeling from the track, he began to turn his own 
team in the same direction. 

"Go on, Delorier"; and the little cart advanced 
125 again. As we rode on we soon heard the wagon 
of our confederates creaking and jolting on behind 
us, and the driver, Wright, discharging a furious volley 
of oaths against his mules; no doubt venting upon 
them the wrath which he dared not direct against 
130 a more appropriate object. 

Something of this sort had frequently occurred. 
Our English friend was by no means partial to us, 
and we thought we discovered in his conduct a de- 
liberate intention to thwart and annoy us, especially 
1 35 by retarding the movements of the party, which 
he knew that we, being Yankees, were anxious to 
quicken. Therefore he would insist on encamping 



96 THE OREGON TRAIL 

at all unseasonable hours, saying that fifteen miles 
was a sufficient day's journey. Finding our wishes 

1 40 systematically disregarded, we took the direction of 
affairs into our own hands. Keeping always in ad- 
vance, to the inexpressible indignation of R., we en- 
camped at what time and place we thought proper, 
not much caring whether the rest chose to follow or 

145 not. They always did so, however, pitching their 

tent near ours, with sullen and wrathful countenances. 

Travelling together on these agreeable terms did 

not suit our tastes; for some time we had meditated 

a separation. The connection with this party had 

1 50 caused us various delays and inconveniences; and 
the glaring want of courtesy and good sense displayed 
by their virtual leader did not dispose us to bear these 
annoyances with much patience. We resolved to 
leave camp early in the morning, and push forward 

1 5 5 as rapidly as possible for Fort Laramie, which we 
hoped to reach, by hard travelling, in four or five 
days. The Captain soon trotted up between us, 
and we explained our intentions. 

"A very extraordinary proceeding, upon my word!" 

1 60 he remarked. Then he began to enlarge upon the 
enormity of the design. The most prominent im- 
pression in his mind evidently was that we were 
acting a base and treacherous part in deserting his 
party, in what he considered a very dangerous stage 

1 65 of the journey. To palliate the atrocity of our con- 
duct we ventured to suggest that we were only four 
in number, while his party still included sixteen men; 
and as, moreover, we were to go forward and they 
were to follow, at least a full proportion of the perils 

1 70 he apprehended would fall upon us. But the austerity 
of the Captain's features would not relax. "A very 
extraordinary proceeding, gentlemen!" and repeating 
this, he rode off to confer with his principal. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 97 

By good luck we found a meadow of fresh grass 
1 75 and a'^large pool of rain-water in the midst of it. 
We encamped here at sunset. Plenty of buffalo 
skulls were lying around bleaching in the sun; and 
sprinkled thickly among the grass was a great va- 
riety of strange flowers. I had nothmg else to do, 
1 80 and so, gathering a handful, I sat down on a buffalo 
skull to study them. Although the offsprmg of a 
wilderness, their texture was frail and delicate, and 
their colors extremely rich; pure white, dark blue, 
and a transparent crimson. One travelling in this 
185 country seldom has leisure to think of anythmg but 
the stern features of the scenery and its accompani- 
ments, or the practical details of each day's jour- 
ney. Like them, he and his thoughts grow hard 
and rough. But now these flowers suddenly awak- 
iQoened a train of associations as ahen to the rude scene 
around me as they were themselves; and for the 
moment my thoughts went back to New England. 
A throng of fair and well-remembered faces rose, 
vividly as life, before me. "There are good things," 
195 thought I, "in the savage Hfe, but what can it offer 
to replace those powerful and ennobling influences 
that can reach unimpaired over more than three 
thousand miles of mountains, forests, and deserts?" 
Before sunrise on the next morning our tent was 
2 00 down; we harnessed our best horses to the cart and 
left the camp. But first we shook hands with our 
friends the emigrants, who sincerely wished us a 
safe journey, though some others of the party might 
easily have been consoled had we encountered an 
205 Indian war-party on the way. The Captain and his 
brother were- standing on the top of a hill, wrapped 
in their plaids, like spirits of the mist, keeping an 
anxious eye on the band of horses below. We waved 
adieu to them as we rode off the ground. The Cap- 



98 THE OREGON TRAIL 

2iotain replied with a salutation of the utmost dignity, 
which Jack tried to imitate; but being little practised 
in the gestures of polite society, his effort was not a 
very successful one. 

In five minutes we had gained the foot of the hills, 

2 1 5 but here we came to a stop. Old Hendrick was 
in the shafts, and being the very incarnation of per- 
verse and brutish obstinacy, he utterly refused to 
move. Delorier lashed and swore till he was tired, 
but Hendrick stood like a rock, grumbling to him- 

2 2oself and looking askance at his enemy, until he saw 
a favorable opportunity to take his revenge, when 
he struck out under the shaft with such cool malig- 
nity of intention that Delorier only escaped the blow 
by a sudden skip into the air, such as no one but a 

225 Frenchman could achieve. Shaw and he then joined 
forces, and lashed on both sides at once. The brute 
stood still for a while till he could bear it no longer, 
when all at once he began to kick and plunge till 
he threatened the utter demolition of the cart and 

2 30 harness. We glanced back at the camp, which 
was in full sight. Our companions, inspired by emu- 
lation, were levelling their tents and driving in their 
cattle and horses. 

"Take the horse out," said I. 

235 I took the saddle from Pontiac and put it upon 
Hendrick ; the former was harnessed to the cart in 
an instant. "Avance done!'' cried Delorier. Pon- 
tiac strode up the hill, twitching the little cart after 
him as if it were a feather's weight; and though, as 

240 we gained the top, we saw the wagons of our de- 
serted comrades just getting into motion, we had 
little fear that they could overtake us. Leaving the 
trail, we struck directly across the country, and took 
the shortest cut to reach the main stream of the Platte. 

245 A deep ravine suddenly intercepted us. We skirted 



THE OREGON TRAIL 90 

its sides until we found them less abrupt, and then 
plunged through the best way we could. Passing 
behind the sandy ravines called "Ash Hollow," 
we stopped for a short nooning at the side of a pool 

2 50 of rain-water; but soon resumed our journey, and 
some hours before sunset were descending the ravines 
and gorges opening downward upon the Platte to the 
west of Ash Hollow. Our horses waded to the fet- 
lock in sand; the sun scorched like fire, and the air 

255 swarmed with sand-flies and mosquitoes. 

At last we gained the Platte. Following it for 
about five miles, we saw, just as the sun was sink- 
ing, a great meadow, dotted with hundreds of cattle, 
and beyond them an emigrant encampment. A party 

260 of about a dozen came out to meet us, looking upon us 
at first with cold and suspicious faces. Seeing four 
men, different in appearance and equipment from 
themselves, emerging from the hills, they had taken 
us for the van of the much-dreaded Mormons, whom 

265 they were very apprehensive of encountering. We 
made known our true character, and then they greeted 
us cordially. They expressed much surprise that so 
small a party should venture to traverse that region, 
though in fact such attempts are not infrequently 

2 70 made by trappers and Indian traders. We rode with 
them to' their camp. The wagons, some fifty in num- 
ber, with here and there a tent intervening, were 
arranged as usual in a circle; in the area within the 
best horses were picketed, and the whole circumfer- 

2 75ence was glowing with the dusky light of the fires, 
displaying the forms of the women and children who 
were crowded around them. This patriarchal scene 
was curious and striking enough; but we made our 
escape from the place with all possible dispatch, being 
280 tormented by the intrusive curiosity of the men, who 
crowded around us. Yankee curiosity was nothing 



100 THK OREGON TRAIL 

to theirs. They demanded our names, where we 
came from, where we were going, and what was our 
business. The last query was particularly embarrass- 

285 ing; since travelling in that country, or indeed any- 
where, from any other motive than gain, was an idea 
of which they took no cognizance. Yet they were 
fine-looking fellows, with an air of frankness, generosity 
and even courtesy, having come from one of the least 

290 barbarous of the frontier counties. 

We passed about a mile beyond them and en- 
camped. Being too few in number to stand guard 
without excessive fatigue, we extinguished our fire, 
lest it should attract the notice of wandering Indians; 

295 and picketing our horses close around us, slept un- 
disturbed till morning. For three days we travelled 
without interruption, and on the evening of the third 
encamped by the well-known spring on Scott's Bluff. 
Henry Chatillon and I rode out in the morning, 

300 and descending the western side of the bluff, were 
crossing the plain beyond. Something that seemed 
to me a file of buffalo came into view, descending 
the hills several miles before us. But Henry reined 
in his horse, and keenly peering across the prairie 

305 with a better and more practised eye, soon discovered 
its real nature. "Indians!" he said. "Old Smoke's 
lodges, I b'lieve. Come! let us go! Wah! get up, 
now, 'Five Hundred Dollar!'" And laying on the 
lash with good will, he galloped forward, and I rode 

3 10 by his side. Not long after a black speck became 
visible on the prairie, full two miles off. It grew 
larger and larger; it assumed the form of a man and 
horse; and soon we could discern a naked Indian, 
careering at full gallop toward us. When within a 

3 1 5 furlong he wheeled his horse in a wide circle, and made 
him describe various mystic figures upon the prairie; 
and Henry immediately compelled "Five Hundred 



THE OREGON TRAIL loi 

Dollar" to execute similar evolutions. "It is Old 
Smoke's village," said he, interpreting these signals; 
S20 ''didn't I say so?" 

As the Indian approached we stopped to wait for 
him, when suddenly he vanished, sinking as it were, 
into the earth. He had come upon one of the deep 
ravines that evervwhere intersect these prairies. 
325 In an instant the rough head of his horse stretched 
upward from the edge, and the rider and steed came 
scrambling out, and bounded up to us; a sudden 
jerk of the rein brought the wild panting horse to a 
full stop. Then followed the needful formality of 
330 shaking hands. I forget our visitor's name. He was 
a young fellow, of no note in his nation; yet m his 
person and equipments he was a good specimen of 
a Dacohtah warrior in his ordinary travelling dress. 
Like most of his people, he was nearly six feet high; 
33 5lithely and gracefully, yet strongly proportioned; 
and with a skin singularly clear and delicate. He wore 
no paint; his head was bare; and his long hair was 
gathered in a clump behind, to the top of which was 
attached transversely, both by way of ornament and 
3 40 of talisman, the mystic whistle, made of the wing- 
bone of the war-eagle, and endowed with various 
magic virtues. From the back of his head descended 
a line of glittering brass plates, tapering from the size 
of a doubloon to that of a half dime, a cumbrous 
345 ornament, in high vogue among the Dahcotahs, and for 
which they pay the traders a most extravagant price; 
his chest and arms were naked, the buffalo-robe 
worn over them when at rest had fallen about his 
waist, and was conlmed there by a beU. This, with 
3 50 the gay moccasins on his feet, completed his attire. 
For arms he carried a quiver of dog-skin at his back, 
and a rude but powerful bow in his hand. His 
horse had no bridle; a cord of hair, lashed around 



102 THE OREGON TRAIL 

his jaw, served in place of one. The saddle was of 

35 5 most singular construction; it was made of wood 
covered with raw-hide, and both pommel and cantle 
rose perpendicularly full eighteen inches, so that the 
warrior was wedged firmly in his seat, whence noth- 
ing could dislodge him but the bursting of the girths. 

360 Advancing with our new companion, we found 
more of his people seated in a circle on the top of a 
hill; while a rude procession came straggling down 
the neighboring hollow, men, women, and children, 
with horses dragging the lodge-poles behind them. 

365 All that morning, as we moved forward, tall savages 
were stalking silently about us. At noon we reached 
Horse Creek; and as we waded through the shallow 
water we saw a wild and striking scene. The main 
body of the Indians had arrived before us. On the 

3 70 farther bank stood a large and strong man, nearly 
naked, holding a white horse by a long cord and eye- 
ing us as we approached. This was the chief, whom 
Henry called "Old Smoke." Just behind him, his 
youngest and favorite squaw sat astride of a fine 

375 mule; it was covered with caparisons of whitened 
skins, garnished with blue and white beads, and 
fringed with little ornaments of metal that tinkled 
with every movement of the animal. The girl had 
a light clear complexion, enlivened by a spot of ver- 

38omilion on each cheek; she smiled, not to say grinned, 
upon us, showing two gleaming rows of white teeth. 
In her hand she carried the tall lance of her unchiv- 
alrous lord, fluttering with feathers; his round, white 
shield hung at the side of her mule; and his pipe 

385 was slung at her back. Her dress was a tunic of 
deer-skin, made beautifully white by means of a 
species of clay found on the prairie, and ornamented 
with beads, arrayed in figures more gay than taste- 
ful, aiid with long fringe^ at all the seams. Not far 



THE OREGON TRAIL 103 

3qofrom the chief stood a group of stately figures, their 
white buffalo-robes thrown over their shoulders, 
gazing coldly upon us; and in the rear, for several 
acres, the ground w^as covered with a temporary en- 
campment; men, women, and children swarmed 
395 like bees; hundreds of dogs, of all sizes and colors, 
ran restlessly about; and close at hand, the wide 
shallow stream was alive with boys, girls, and young 
squaws, splashing, screaming, and laughing in the 
water. At the same time a long train of emigrant 
400 wagons were crossing the creek, and dragging on in 
their slow, heavy procession, passed the encamp- 
ment of the people whom they and their descend- 
ants, in the space of a century, are to sweep from 
the face of the earth. 
405 The encampment itself was merely a temporary 
one during the heat of the day. None of the lodges 
were erected; but their heavy leather coverings, and 
the long poles used to support them, were scattered 
everywhere around, among weapons, domestic uten- 
4iosils, and the mde harness of mules and horses. The 
squaws of each lazy warrior had made him a sheher 
from the sun by stretching a few buffalo-robes or 
the corner of a lodge-covering upon poles; and here 
he sat in the shade, with a favorite young squaw, 
415 perhaps, at his side, glittering with all imaginable 
trinkets. Before him stood the insignia of his rank 
as a warrior, his white shield of bull-hide, his medi- 
cine-bag, his bow and quiver, his lance and his pipe, 
raised aloft on a tripod of three poles. Except the 
420 dogs, the most active and noisy tenants of the camp 
were the old women, ugly as Macbeth's ^ witches, 
with their hair streaming loose in the wind, and 
nothing but the tattered fragment of an old buffalo- 
robe to hide their shrivelled wiry limbs. The day 
425 of their favoritism passed two generations ago; now 



104 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the heaviest labors of the camp devolved upon them; 
they were to harness the horses, pitch the lodges, 
dress the buffalo-robes, and bring in meat for the 
hunters. With the cracked voices of these hags, 
430 the clamor of dogs, the shouting and laughing of 
children and girls, and the hstless tranquillity of the 
warriors, the whole scene had an effect too lively 
and picturesque ever to be forgotten. 

We stopped not far from the Indian camp, and 

43 5 having invited some of the chiefs and warriors to 

dinner, placed before them a sumptuous repast of 
biscuit and coffee. Squatted in a half circle on the 
ground, they soon disposed of it. As we rode for- 
ward on the afternoon journey, several of our late 
440 guests accompanied us. Among the rest was a 
huge bloated savage, of more than three hundred 
pounds' weight, christened Le Cochon, in considera- 
tion of his preposterous dimensions, and certain 
corresponding traits of his character. "The Hog" 

44 5 bestrode a little white pony, scarce able to bear up 

under the enormous burden, though, by way of 
keeping up the necessary stimulus, the rider kept 
both feet in constant motion, playing alternately 
against his ribs. The old man was not a chief; he 
4 50 never had ambition enough to become one; he was 
not a warrior nor a hunter, for he was too fat and 
lazy: but he was the richest man in the whole vil- 
lage. Riches among the Dahcotahs consist in horses, 
and of these "The Hog" had accumulated more 

45 5 than thirty. He had already ten times as many as 

he wanted, yet still his appetite for horses was in- 
satiable. Trotting up to me, he shook me by the hand 
and gave me to understand that he was a very de- 
voted friend; and then he began a series of most 
460 earnest signs and gesticulations, his oily counte- 
nance radiant with smiles, and his little eyes peep- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 105 

ing out with a cunning twinkle from between the 
masses of flesh that almost obscured them. Know- 
ing nothing at that time of the sign-language of the In- 

465dians, I could only guess at his meaning. So I called 
on Henry to explain it. 

"The Hog," it seems, was anxious to conclude a 
matrimonial bargain. He said he had a very pretty 
daughter in his lodge, whom he would give me, if 

4 70 1 would give him my horse. These flattering over- 
tures I chose to reject; at which "The Hog," still 
laughing with undiminished good humor, gathered 
his robe about his shoulders and rode away. 

Where we encamped that night an arm of the 

475 Platte ran between high bluffs; it was turbid and 
swift as heretofore, but trees were growing on its 
crumbling banks, and there was a nook of grass 
between the water and the hill. Just before enter- 
ing this place we saw the emigrants encamping at 

480 two or three miles' distance on the right; while the 
whole Indian rabble were pouring down the neigh- 
boring hill in hope of the same sort of entertain- 
ment which they had experienced from us. In the 
savage landscape before our camp nothing but the 

485 rushing of the Platte broke the silence. Through 
the ragged boughs of the trees, dilapidated and half 
dead, we saw the sun setting in crimson behind the 
peaks of the Black Hills; the restless bosom of the 
river was suffused with red; our white tent was 

490 tinged with it, and the sterile bluffs, up to the rocks 
that crowned them, partook of the same fiery hue. 
It soon passed away; no light remained but that 
from our fire, blazing high among the dusky trees 
and bushes. We lay around it wrapped in our blan- 
49 5kets, smoking and conversing until a late hour, and 
then withdrew to our tent. 

We crossed a sun-scorched plain on the next morn- 



io6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

ing, the line of old cotton-wood trees that fringed the 
bank of the Platte forming its extreme verge. Nestled 

500 apparently close beneath them, we could discern in 
the distance something like a building. As we came 
nearer, it assumed form and dimensions, and proved 
to be a rough structure of logs. It was a little trad- 
ing fort, belonging to two private traders; and origi- 

sosnally intended, like all the forts of the country, to form 
a hollow square with rooms for lodging and storage 
opening upon the area within. Only two sides of it 
had been completed; the place was now as ill-fitted 
for the purpose of defence as any of those little log- 

Siohouses which upon our constantly-shifting frontier 
have been so often successfully maintained against 
over-whelming odds of Indians. Two lodges were 
pitched close to the fort; the sun beat scorching 
upon the logs; no living thing was stirring except 

5i5one old squaw, who thrust her round head from the 
opening of the nearest lodge, and three or four stout 
young pups, who were peeping with looks of eager 
inquiry from under the covering. In a moment 
a door opened, and a little swarthy, black-eyed French- 

5 20 man came out. His dress was rather singular; his 
black curling hair was parted in the middle of his 
head, and fell below his shoulders; he wore a tight 
frock of smoked deer-skin, very gayly ornamented 
with figures worked in dyed porcupine- quills. His 

525 moccasins and leggings were also gaudily adorned in 
the same manner; and the latter had in addition 
a line of long fringes reaching down the seams. The 
small frame of Richard, for by this name Henry 
made him known to us, was in the highest degree 

530 athletic and vigorous. There was no superfluity, and 
indeed there seldom is among the active white men 
of this country, but every limb was compact and hard ; 
every sinew had its full tone and elasticity, and the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 107 

whole man wore an air of mingled hardihood and 
5 35 buoyancy. 

Richard committed our horses to a Navaho slave, 
a mean-looking fellow, taken prisoner on the Mexican 
frontier; and reheving us of our rifles with ready 
politeness, led the way into the principal apartment 
5 40 of his establishment. This was a room ten feet 
square. The walls and floor were of black mud, 
and the roof of rough timber; there was a huge 
fireplace made of four flat rocks, picked up on the 
prairie. An Indian bow and otter-skin quiver, several 
545 gaudy articles of Rocky Mountain finery, an In- 
dian medicine-bag, and a pipe and tobacco-pouch 
garnished the walls, and rifles rested in a corner. There 
was no furniture except a sort of rough settle, covered 
with buffalo-robes, upon which lolled a tall half-breed, 
5 50 with his hair glued in masses upon each temple, and 
saturated with vermilion. Two or three more " moun- 
tain men" sat cross-legged on the floor. Their attire, 
was not unlike that of Richard himself; but the most 
striking figure of the group was a naked Indian boy 
55 5 of sixteen, with a handsome face, and light, active pro- 
portions, who sat in an easy posture in the corner 
near the door. Not one of his limbs moved the breadth 
of a hair; his eye was fixed immovably, not on any 
person present, but, as it appeared, on the projecting 
5 60 corner of the fireplace opposite to him. 

On these prairies the custom of smoking with 
friends is seldom omitted, whether among Indians 
or whites. The pipe, therefore, was taken from 
the wall, and its great red bowl crammed with the 
565 tobacco and shongsasha, mixed in suitable pro- 
portions. Then it passed round the circle, each 
man inhaling a few whiffs and handing it to his neigh- 
bor. Having spent half an hour here, we took our 
leave; first inviting our new friends to drink a cup of 



io8 THE OREGON TRAIL 

5 70 coffee with us at our camp a mile farther up the river. 

By this time, as the reader may conceive, we had 

grown rather shabby; our clothes had burst into 

rags and tatters; and what was worse, we had very 

little means of renovation. Fort Laramie was but 

5 75 seven miles before us. Being totally averse to ap- 
pearing in such a plight among any society that 
could boast an approximation to the civilized, we 
soon stopped by the river to make our toilet in the 
best way we could. We hung up small looking-glasses 

580 against the trees and shaved, an operation neglected 
for six weeks; we performed our ablutions in the 
Platte, though the utility of such a proceeding was 
questionable, the water looking exactly like a cup of 
chocolate, and the banks consisting of the softest 

585 and richest yellow mud, so that we were obliged, as 
a preliminary, to build a causeway of stout branches 
and twigs. Having also put on radiant moccasins, 
procured from a squaw of Richard's establishment, 
and made what other improvements our narrow cir- 

59ocumstances allowed, we took our seats on the grass 
with a feeling of greatly increased respectability, to 
await the arrival of our guests. They came; the 
banquet was concluded, and the pipe smoked. Bid- 
ding them adieu, we turned our horses' heads toward 

595 the fort. 

An hour elapsed. The barren hills closed across 
our front, and we could see no farther, until having 
surmounted them, a rapid stream appeared at the 
foot of the descent, running into the Platte; beyond 

600 was a green meadow, dotted with bushes, and in 
the midst of these, at the point where the two rivers 
joined, were the low clay walls of a fort. This was 
not Fort Laramie, but another post of less recent 
date, which having sunk before its successful com- 

6o5])et.itor, was now deserted and ruinous. A moment 



THE OREGON TRAIL io9 

after, the hills seeming to draw apart as we advanced, 
disclosed Fort Laramie itself, its high bastions and 
perpendicular walls of clay crowning an emmence on 
the left beyond the stream, while behind stretched a 
6roHne of arid and desolate ridges, and behind these 
again, towering aloft seven thousand feet, arose the 
grim Black Hills. . 

We tried to ford Laramie Creek at a pomt nearly 
opposite the fort, but the stream, swollen with the 
615 rains in the mountains, was too rapid. We passed 
^ up along its bank to find a better crossing place.^ Men 
gathered on the wall to look at us. "There's Bor- 
deaux!" called Henry, his face brightening as he 
recognized his acquaintance; "him there with the 
620 spy-glass; and there's old Vaskiss, and Tucker, and 
May; and, by George! there's Cimoneau!" This 
Cimoneau was Henry's fast friend, and the only man 
in the country who could rival him in hunting. 

We soon found a ford. Henry led the way, the 
625 pony approaching the bank with a countenance of 
cool indifference, bracing his feet and sliding into 
the stream with the most unmoved composure: 

* ' At the first plunge the horse sunk low, 
And the water broke o'er the saddle-bow." 

630 We followed; the water boiled against our sad- 
dles, but our horses bore us easily through. The 
unfortunate Httle mules came near going down with 
the current, cart and all; and we watched them 
with some soHcitude scrambling over the loose round 

635 stones at the bottom, and bracing stoutly against the 
stream. All landed safely at last; we crossed a little 
plain, descended a hollow, and riding up a steep 
bank, found ourselves before the gateway of Fort 
Laramie, under the impending blockhouse erected 

640 above it to defend the entrance. 



CHAPTER IX 

SCENES AT FORT LARAMIE 

" 'Tis true they are a lawless brood, 
But rough in form, nor mild in mood." 

— The Bride of Ahydos 

Looking back, after the expiration of a year, upon 
5 Fort Laramie and its inmates, they seem less Hke a 
reality than like some fanciful picture of the olden 
time; so different was the scene from any which this 
tamer side of the world can present. Tall Indians 
enveloped in their white buffalo-robes, were striding 

I o across the area or reclining at full length on the low 
roofs of the buildings which inclosed it. Numer- 
ous squaws, gayly bedizened, sat grouped in front of 
the apartments they occupied ; their mongrel offspring, 
restless and vociferous, rambled in every direction 

1 5 through the fort; and the trappers, traders, and 
engages of the establishment were busy at their labor 
or their amusements. 

We were met at the gate, but by no means cor- 
dially welcomed. Indeed, we seemed objects of 

20 some distrust and suspicion, until Henry Chatillon 
explained that we were not traders, and we in con- 
firmation, handed to the bourgeois a letter of intro- 
duction from his principals. He took it, turned it 
upside down, and tried hard to read it; but his 

25 literary attainments not being adequate to the task, 
he applied for relief to the clerk, a sleek, smiling 
Frenchman, named Montalon. The letter read, 
Bordeaux (the bourgeois) seemed gradually to awaken 
to a sense of what was expected of him. Though 



THE OREGON TRAIL iii 

30 not deficient in hospitable intentions, he was wholly 
unaccustomed to act as master of ceremonies. Dis- 
carding all formalities of reception, he did not honor 
us with a single word, but walked swiftly across the 
area, while we followed in some admiration to a rail- 

35ing and a flight of steps opposite the entrance. He 
signed to us that we had better fasten our horses to 
the railing; then he walked up the steps, tramped 
along a rude balcony, and kicking open a door, dis- 
played a large room, rather more elaborately finished 

40 than a barn. For furniture it had a rough bedstead, 
but no bed ; two chairs, a chest of drawers, a tin pail 
to hold water, and a board to cut tobacco upon. A 
brass crucifix hung on the wall, and close at hand a 
recent scalp, with hair full a yard long, was suspended 

45 from a nail. I shall again have occasion to mention 
this dismal trophy, its history being connected with 
that of our subsequent proceedings. 

This apartment, the best in Fort Laramie, was 
that usually occupied by the legitimate bourgeois, 

SoPapin; in whose absence the command devolved 
upon Bordeaux. The latter, a stout, bluff little fellow, 
much inflated by a sense of his new authority, began 
to roar for buffalo-robes. These being brought and 
spread upon the floor formed our beds; much better 

5 5 ones than we had of late been accustomed to. Our 
arrangements made, we stepped out to the balcony 
to take a more leisurely survey of the long-looked -for 
haven at which we had arrived at last. Beneath us 
was the square area surrounded by little rooms, or rather 

60 cells, which opened upon it. These were devoted to 
various purposes, but served chiefly for the accommo- 
dation of the men employed at the fort, or of the 
equally numerous squaws whom they were allowed 
to maintain in it. Opposite to us rose the blockhouse 

65 above the gateway; it was adorned with a figure which 



"2 THE OREGON TRAIL 

even now haunts my memory; a horse at full speed, 
daubed upon the boards with red paint, and exhibited 
a degree of skill that might rival that displayed by the 
Indians m executing similar designs upon their robes 
70 and lodges. A busy scene was enacting in the area 
The wagons of Vaskiss, an old trader, were about to 
set out for a remote post in the mountains, and the 
Canadians were going through their preparations 
with all possible bustle, while here and there an Indian 
75 stood looking on with imperturbable gravity. 

Fort Laramie is one of the posts established by 
the "American Fur Company," who well-nigh mono- 
polize the Indian trade of this whole region. Here 
their officials rule with an absolute sway; the arm of 
80 the United States has little force; for when we were 
there, the extreme outposts of her troops were about 
seven hundred miles to the eastward. The little 
fort is built of bricks dried in the sun, and externally 
IS of an oblong form, with bastions of clay, in the form 
8 5 of ordinary block-houses, at two of the corners The 
walls are about fifteen feet high, and surmounted 
by a slender palisade. The roofs of the apartments 
within, which are built close against the walls, serve 
the purpose of a banquette. Within, the fort is di- 
9ovided by a partition; on one side is the square area, 
surrounded by the store-rooms, offices, and apartments 
of the inmates; on the other is the corral, a narrow 
place, encompassed by the high clay walls, where at 
night, or in presence of dangerous Indians, the horses 
9 5 and mules of the fort are crowded for safe keeping. 
The main entrance has two gates, with an arched pas- 
sage intervening. A little square window, quite high 
above the ground, opens laterally from an adjoining 
chamber into this passage; so that when the inner 
loogate IS closed and barred, a person without may 
still hold communication with those within, through 



THE OREGON TRAIL 113 

this narrow aperture. This obviates the necessity 
of admitting suspicious Indians, for purposes of 
trading, into the body of the fort; for when danger 

105 is apprehended the inner gate is shut fast, and all 
traffic is carried on by means of the little window. 
This precaution, though highly necessary at some 
of the company's posts, is now seldom resorted to 
at Fort Laramie; where, though men are frequently 

1 10 killed in its neighborhood, no apprehensions are 
now entertained of any general designs of hostility 
from the Indians. 

We did not long enjoy our new quarters undis- 
turbed. The door was silently pushed open, and 

1 1 5 two eyeballs and a visage as black as night looked 
in upon us; then a red arm and shoulder intruded 
themselves, and a tall Indian, gliding in, shook us 
by the hand, grunted his salutation, and sat down 
on the floor. Others followed, with faces of the 

1 20 natural hue; and letting fall their heavy robes from 
their shoulders, they took their seats, quite at ease, 
in a semi-circle before us. The pipe was now to be 
lighted and passed round from one to another; and 
this was the only entertainment that at present they 

125 expected from us. These visitors were fathers, 
brothers, or other relatives of the squaws in the fort, 
where they were permitted to remain, loitering about 
in perfect idleness. All those who smoked with us 
were men of standing and repute. Two or three 

1 30 others dropped in also; young fellows who neither 
by their years nor their exploits w^ere entitled to rank 
with the old men and warriors, and who, abashed in 
the presence of their superiors, stood aloof, never 
withdrawing their eyes from us. Their cheeks were 

135 adorned with vermilion, their ears with pendants of 
shell, and their necks with beads. Never yet having 
signalized themselves as hunters, or performed the 



114 THE OREGON TRAIL 

honorable exploit of killing a man, they were held in 
slight esteem, and were diffident and bashful in propor- 

i4otion. Certain formidable inconveniences attended this 
influx of visitors. They were bent on inspecting every- 
thing in the room ; our equipments and our dress alike 
underwent their scrutiny; for though the contrary 
has been carelessly asserted, few beings have more 

145 curiosity than Indians in regard to subjects within 
their ordinary range of thought. As to other matters, 
indeed, they seem utterly indifferent. They will 
not trouble themselves to inquire into what they 
cannot comprehend, but are quite contented to place 

1 50 their hands over their mouths in token of wonder, 
and exclaim that it is "great medicine." With this 
comprehensive solution, an Indian never is at a loss. 
He never launches forth into speculation and conjec- 
ture; his reason moves in its beaten track. His soul 

155 is dormant; and no exertions of the missionaries, 
Jesuit or Puritan, of the Old World or of the New, 
have as yet availed to rouse it. 

As we were looking, at sunset, from the wall, upon 
the wild and desolate plains that surround the fort, 

1 60 we observed a cluster of strange objects, like scaffolds, 
rising in the distance against the red western sky. 
They bore aloft some singular-looking burdens; and 
at their foot glimmered something white, like bones. 
This was the place of sepulture of some Dahcotah 

1 65 chiefs, whose remains their people are fond of placing 
in the vicinity of the fort, in the hope that they may 
thus be protected from violation at the hands of their 
enemies. Yet it has happened more than once, and 
quite recently, that war-parties of the Crow Indians, 

1 70 ranging through the country, have thrown the bodies 
from the scaffolds, and broken them to pieces, amid the 
yells of the Dahcotahs, who remained pent up in the 
fort, too few to defend the honored relics from in- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 115 

suit. The white objects upon the ground were buffalo 

1 75 skulls, arranged in the mystic circle commonly seen 
at Indian places of sepulture upon the praire. 

We soon discovered, in the twilight, a band of 
fifty or sixty horses approaching the fort. These 
were the animals belonging to the establishment; 

180 who having been sent out to feed, under the care of 
armed guards, in the meadows below, were now 
being driven into the corral for the night. A little gate 
opened into this inclosure; by the side of it stood one 
of the guards, an old Canadian, with gray bushy 

185 eyebrows, and a dragoon-pistol stuck into his belt; 
while his comrade, mounted on horseback, his rifle 
laid across the saddle in front of him, and his long hair 
blowing before his swarthy face, rode at the rear of the 
disorderly troop, urging them up the ascent. In a 

1 90 moment the narrow corral was thronged with the 
half-wild horses, kicking, biting, and crowding rest- 
lessly together. 

The discordant jingling of a bell, rung by a Canadian 
in the area, summoned us to supper. This sumptuous 

rg 5 repast was served on a rough table in one of the lower 
apartments of the fort, and consisted of cakes of bread 
and dried buffalo-meat — an excellent thing for 
strengthening the teeth. At this meal were seated 
the bourgeois and superior dignitaries of the establish- 

2ooment, among whom Henry Chatillon was worthily 
included. No sooner was it finished than the table 
was spread a second time (the luxury of bread being 
now, however, omitted) for the benefit of certain 
hunters and trappers of an inferior standing; while 

205 the ordinary Canadian engages were regaled on dried 
meat in one of their lodging rooms. By way of illus- 
trating the domestic economy of Fort Laramie, it may 
not be amiss to introduce in this place a story current 
among the men when we were there. 



ii6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

2IO There was an old man named Pierre, whose duty 
it was to bring the meat from the store-room for the 
men. Old Pierre, in the kindness of his heart, used 
to select the fattest and the best pieces for his com- 
panions. This did not long escape the keen-eyed 

2 1 5 bourgeois, who was greatly disturbed at such improvi- 
dence, and cast about for some means to stop it. At 
last he hit on a plan that exactly suited him. At the 
side of the meat-room, and separated from it by 
a clay partition, was another apartment, used for the 

2 20 storage of furs. It had no other communication with 
the fort except through a square hole in the partition, 
and of course it was perfectly dark. One evening 
the bourgeois, watching for a moment when no one 
observed him, dodged into the meat-room, clambered 

225 through the hole, and ensconced himself among the 
furs and buffalo-robes. Soon after old Pierre came 
in with his lantern; and, muttering to himself, began 
to pull over the bales of meat, and select the best pieces, 
as usual. But suddenly a hollow and sepulchral 

230 voice proceeded from the inner apartment: "Pierre! 
Pierre! Let that fat meat alone! Take nothing but 
lean!" Pierre dropped his lantern, and bolted out 
into the fort, screaming, in an agony of terror, that the 
devil was in the store-room; but tripping on the 

235 threshold, he pitched over upon the gravel, and lay 
senseless, stunned by the fall. The Canadians ran out 
to the rescue. Some lifted the unlucky Pierre; and 
others, making an extempore crucifix out of two 
sticks, were proceeding to attack the devil in his 

2 40 stronghold, when the bourgeois, with a crestfallen 
countenance, appeared at the door. To add to the 
bourgeoises mortification, he was obliged to explain 
the whole stratagem to Pierre in order to bring the 
latter to his senses. 

245 We were sitting, on the following morning in the 



THE OREGON TRAIL "7 

passage-way between the gates, conversing with the 
traders Vaskiss and May. These two men, together 
with our sleek friend, the clerk Montalon, were, I 
believe, the only persons then in the fort who could 
250 read and write. May was telling a curious story 
about the traveller Catlin, when an ugly, diminutive 
Indian, wretchedly mounted, came up at a gallop, 
and rode past us into the fort. On being questioned, 
he said that Smoke's village was close at hand. Ac- 
255cordingly only a few minutes elapsed before the hills 
beyond the river were covered with a disorderly swarm 
of savages, on horseback and on foot. May finished 
his story; and by that time the whole array had de- 
scended to Laramie Creek, and commenced crossing 
2 60 it in a mass. I walked down to the bank. The 
stream is wide, and was then between three and four 
feet deep, with a very swift current. For several rods 
the water was alive with dogs, horses, and Indians. 
The long poles used in erecting the lodges are carried 
265 bv the horses, being fastened by the heavier end, two 
or three on each side, to a rude sort of pack-saddle, 
while the other end drags on the ground. About a 
foot behind the horse a kind of large basket or pannier 
is suspended between the poles, and firmly lashed 
2 70 in its place. On the back af the horse are piled 
various articles of luggage; the basket also is well 
filled with domestic utensils, or, quite as often, with 
a litter of puppies, a brood of small children, or a 
superannuated old man. Numbers of these curious 
275 vehicles, called, in the bastard language of the 
country, travaux, were now splashing together through 
the stream. Among them swam countless dogs, 
often burdened with miniature travaux; and dash- 
ing for\\^ard on horseback through the throng came 
280 the superbly formed warriors, the slender figure 
of some lynx-eyed boy clinging fast behind them. 



ii8 THE OREGON TRAIL 

The women sat perched on the pack-saddles, adding 
not a little to the load of the already over-burdened 
horses. The confusion was prodigious. The dogs 

285 yelled and howled in chorus; the puppies in the 
travaux set up a dismal whine as the water invaded 
their comfortable retreat; the little black-eyed chil- 
dren, from one year of age upward, clung fast with 
both hands to the edge of their basket, and looked over 

290 in alarm, at the water rushing so near them, sputtering 
and making wry mouths as it splashed against their 
faces. Some of the dogs, encumbered by their load, 
were carried down by the current, yelping piteously; 
and the old squaws would rush into the water, seize 

295 their favorites by the neck, and drag them out. As 
each horse gained the bank, he scrambled up as he 
could. Stray horses and colts came among the rest, 
often breaking away at full speed through the crowd, 
followed by the old hags, screaming, after their fashion, 

300 on all occasions of excitement. Buxom young squaws, 
blooming in all the charms of vermilion, stood here 
and there on the bank, holding aloft their master's 
lance as a signal to collect the scattered portions of 
his household. In a few moments the crowd melted 

305 away; each family, with its horses and equipage, 
filing off to the plain at the rear of the fort; and 
here, in the space of half an hour, arose sixty or 
seventy of their tapering lodges. Their horses were 
feeding by hundreds over the surrounding prairie, 

3 10 and their dogs were roaming everywhere. The fort 
was full of men, and the children were whooping 
and yelling incessantly under the walls. 

These new-comers were scarcely . arrived, when 
Bordeaux was running across the fort, • shouting to 

315 his squaw to bring him his spy-glass. The obedient 
Marie, the very model of a squaw, produced the 
instrument, and Bordeaux hurried with it up to thQ 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



119 



wall. Pointing it to the eastward, he exclaimed, 
with an oath, that the families were coming. But a 

3 20 few moments elapsed before the heavy caravan of 
the emigrant wagons could be seen, steadily ad- 
vancing from the hills. They gained the river, and 
without turning or pausing plunged in; they passed 
through, and slowly ascending the opposing bank, 

325 kept directly on their way past the fort and the In- 
dian village, until, gaining a spot a quarter of a mile 
distant, they wheeled into a circle. For some time 
our tranquillity was undisturbed. The emigrants 
were preparing their encampment; but no sooner 

3 30 was this accomphshed, than Fort Laramie was fairly 
taken by storm. A crowd of broad-brimmed hats, 
thin visages, and staring eyes appeared suddenly at 
the gate. Tall, awkward men, in brown homespun; 
women with cadaverous faces and long lank figures, 

335 came thronging in together, and as if inspired by the 
very demon of curiosity, ransacked every nook and 
corner of the fort. Dismayed at this invasion, we with- 
drew in all speed to our chamber, vainly hoping that 
it might prove an inviolable sanctuary. The emigrants 

340 prosecuted their investigations with untiring vigor. 
They penetrated the rooms, or rather dens, inhabited 
by the astonished squaws. They explored the apart- 
ments of the men, and even that of Marie and the bour- 
geois. At last a numerous deputation appeared at 

245 our door, but were immediately expelled. Being 
totally devoid of any sense of delicacy or propriety, 
they seemed resolved to search every mystery to the 
bottom. 

Having at length satisfied their curiosity, they 

350 next proceeded to business. The men occupied 
themselves in procuring supplies for their onward 
journey; either buying them with money or giving 
in exchange superfluous articles of their own. 



I20 THE OREGON TRAIL 

The emigrants felt a violent prejudice against the 

35 5 French Indians, as they called the trappers and 
traders. They thought, and with some justice, that 
these men bore them no good will. Many of them 
were firmly persuaded that the French were insti- 
gating the Indians to attack and cut them off. On 

360 visiting the encampment we were at once struck 
with the extraordinary perplexity and indecision that 
prevailed among the emigrants. They seemed like 
men totally out of their element; bewildered and 
amazed, like a troop of school-boys lost in the woods. 

365 It was impossible to be long among them without 
being conscious of the high and bold spirit with which 
most of them were animated. But the jorest is the 
home of the backwoodsman. On the remote prairie 
he is totally at a loss. He differs as much from the 

3 70 genuine "mountain man," the wild prairie hunter, as 
a Canadian voyageur, paddling his canoe on the rapids 
of the Ottawa, differs from an American sailor among 
the storms of Cape Horn. Still my companion and I 
were somewhat at a loss to account for this perturbed 

375 state of mind. It could not be cowardice; these men 
were of the same stock with the volunteers of Mon- 
terey and Buena Vista. Yet, for the most part, they 
were the rudest and most ignorant of the frontier popu- 
lation; they knew absolutely nothing of the country 

380 and its inhabitants; they had already experienced 
much misfortune and apprehended more; they had 
seen nothing of mankind, and had never put their 
own resources to the test. 

A full proportion of suspicion fell upon us. Being 

385 strangers, we were looked upon as enemies. Having 
occasion for a supply of lead and a few other neces- 
sary articles, we used to go over to the emigrant 
camps to obtain them. After some hesitation, some 
dubious glances, and fumbling of the hands in the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 121 

390 pockets, the terms would be agreed upon, the price 
tendered, and the emigrant would go off to bring 
the article in question. After waiting until our 
patience gave out, we would go in search of him, 
and find him seated on the tongue of his wagon. 

39 5 "Well, stranger," he would observe, as he saw 
us approach, "I reckon I won't trade!" 

Some friend of his had followed him from the 
scene of the bargain, and suggested in his ear that 
clearly we meant to cheat him, and he had better 

400 have nothing to do with us. 

This timorous mood of the emigrants was doubly 
unfortunate, as it exposed them to real danger. As- 
sume, in the presence of Indians, a bold bearing, 
self-confident yet vigilant, and you will find them 

405 tolerably safe neighbors. But your safety depends 
on the respect and fear you are able to inspire. If 
you betray timidity or indecision, you convert them 
from that moment into insidious and dangerous ene- 
mies. The Dahcotah saw clearly enough the per- 

4ioturbation of the emigrants, and instantly availed 
themselves of it. They became extremely insolent 
and exacting in their demands. It has become an 
established custom w^ith them to go to the camp of 
every party, as - it arrives in succession at the fort, 

415 and demand a feast. Smoke's village had come with 
this express design, having made several days' journey 
with no other object than that of enjoying a cup of 
coffee and two or three biscuits. So the "feast" was 
demanded, and the emigrants dared not refuse it. 

420 One evening, about sunset, the village was de- 
serted. We met old men, warriors, squaws, and 
children in gay attire, trooping off to the encamp- 
ment, with faces of anticipation; and, arriving here, 
they seated themselves in a semicircle. Smoke 

425 occupied the centre, with his warriors on either hand; 



122 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the young men and boys next succeeded, and the 
squaws and children formed the horns of the crescent. 
The biscuit and coffee were most promptly dispatched, 
the emigrants staring open-mouthed at their savage 

430 guests. With each emigrant party that arrived at 
Fort Laramie this scene was renewed; and every day 
the Indians grew more rapacious and presumptuous. 
One evening they broke to pieces, out of mere wanton- 
ness, the cups from which they had been feasted ; and 

435 this so exasperated the emigrants that many of them 
seized their rifles and could scarcely be restrained from 
firing on the insolent mob of Indians. Before we 
left the country this dangerous spirit on the part of 
the Dahcotah had mounted to a yet higher pitch. 

440 They began openly to threaten the emigrants with 
destruction, and actually fired upon one or two 
parties of whites. A military force and military law 
are urgently called for in that perilous region, and 
unless troops are speedily stationed at Fort Laramie, 

445 or elsewhere in the neighborhood, both the emi- 
grants and other travellers will be exposed to most 
imminent risks. 

The Ogallallah, the Brule, and the other western 
bands of the Dahcotah are thorough savages, un- 

450 changed by any contact with civilization. Not one 
of them can speak an European tongue, or has ever 
visited an American settlement. Until within a 
year or two, when the emigrants began to pass through 
their country on the way to Oregon, they had seen no 

45 5 whites except the handful employed about the Fur 
Company's posts. They esteemed them a wise people, 
inferior only to themselves, living in leather lodges, like 
their own, and subsisting on buffalo. But when the 
swarm of Meneaska, with their oxen and wagons, be- 

460 gan to invade them, their astonishment was unbounded. 
They could scarcely believe that the earth contained 



THE OREGON TRAIL 123 

such a multitude of white men. Their wonder is now 
giving way to indignation; and the result, unless 
vigilantly guarded against, may be lamentable in the 
465 extreme. 

But to glance at the interior of a lodge. Shaw 
and I used often to visit them. Indeed, we spent 
most of our evenings in the Indian village; Shaw's 
assumption of the medical character giving us a fair 
470 pretext. As a sample of the rest I will describe 
one of the%e visits. The sun had just set, and the 
horses were driven into the corral. The Prairie Cock, 
a noted beau, came in at the gate with a bevy of young 
girls, with whom he began a dance in the area, leading 
475 them round and round in a circle, while he jerked up 
from his chest a succession of monotonous sounds, to 
which they kept time in a rueful chant. Outside the 
gate boys and young men were idly frolicking; and 
close by, looking grimly upon them, stood a warrior 
480 in his robe, with his face painted jet-black, in token 
that he had lately taken a Pawnee scalp. Passing these, 
the tall dark lodges rose between us and the red western 
sky. We repaired at once to the lodge of Old Smoke 
himself. It was by no means better than the others; 
485 indeed, it was rather shabby; for in this democratic 
community the chief never assumes superior state. 
Smoke sat cross-legged on a buffalo-robe, and his 
grunt of salutation as we entered was unusually 
cordial, out of respect no doubt to Shaw's medical 
490 character. Seated around the lodge were several 
squaws, and an abundance of children. The com- 
plaint of Shaw's patients was, for the most part, a 
severe inflammation of the eyes, occasioned by ex- 
posure to the sun, a species of disorder which he 
49 5 treated with some success. He had brought with 
him a homeopathic medicine- chest, and was, I pre- 
sume, the first who introduced that harmless system 



124 THE OREGON TRAIL 

of treatment among the Ogallallah. No sooner 
had a robe been spread at the head of the lodge for 

500 our accommodation, and we had seated ourselves 
upon it, than a patient made her appearance; the 
chief's daughter herself, who, to do her justice, was the 
best-looking girl in the village. Being on excellent 
terms with the physician, she placed herself readily 

505 under his hands, and submitted with a good grace to 
his applications, laughing in his face during the whole 
process, for a squaw hardly knows how to sijiile. This 
case dispatched, another of a different kind succeeded. 
A hideous, emaciated old woman sat in the darkest 

5 1 c corner of the lodge, rocking to and fro with pain, and 
hiding her eyes from the light by pressing the palms of 
both hands against her face. At Smoke's com- 
mand she came forward very unwillingly, and ex- 
hibited a pair of eyes that had nearly disappeared 

5 15 from excess of inflammation. No sooner had the 
doctor fastened his grip upon her than she set up a 
dismal moaning, and writhed so in his grasp that he 
lost all patience, but being resolved to carry his point, 
he succeeded at last in applying his favorite remedies. 

520 "It is strange," he said, when the operation was 
finished, "that I forgot to bring any Spanish flies with 
me; we must have something here to answer for a 
counter-irritant!" 

So, in the absence of better, he seized upon a red- 

525 hot brand from the fire, and clapped it against the 
temple of the old squaw, who set up an unearthly 
howl, at which the rest of the family broke out into 
a laugh. 

During these medical operations Smoke's eldest 

530 squaw entered the lodge with a sort of stone mallet 
in her hand. I had observed some time before a 
litter of well-grown black puppies comfortably nestled 
among some buffalo-robes at one side, but this new- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 125 

comer speedily disturbed their enjoyment ; for, seizing 

535 one of them by the hind paw, she dragged him out, and 
carrying him to the entrance of the lodge, hammered 
him on the head till she killed him. Being quite con- 
scious to what this preparation tended, I looked 
through a hole in the back of the lodge to see the next 

540 steps of the process. The squaw, holding the puppy 
by the legs, was swinging him to and fro through the 
blaze of a fire, until the hair was singed off. This done, 
she unsheathed her knife and cut him into small 
pieces, which she dropped into a kettle to boil. In 

545 a few moments a large wooden dish was set before 
us, filled with this delicate preparation. We felt 
conscious of the honor. A dog-feast is the greatest 
compliment a Dahcotah can offer to his guest; and 
knowing that to refuse eating would be an affront, 

5 50 we attacked the little dog, and devoured him before 
the eyes of his unconscious parent. Smoke in the 
meantime was preparing his great pipe. It was 
lighted when we had finished our repast, and we 
passed it from one to another till the bowl was empty. 

255 This done, we took our leave without further ceremony, 
knocked at the gate of the fort, and after making our- 
selves known, were admitted. 

One morning, about a week after reaching Fort 
Laramie, we were holding our customary Indian 

5 60 levee, when a bustle in the area below announced a 
new arrival, and, looking down from our balcony, 
I saw a familiar red beard and moustache in the 
gateway. They belonged to the Captain, who, 
with his party, had just crossed the stream. We 

565 met him on the stairs as he came up, and congratu- 
lated him on the safe arrival of himself and his devoted 
companions. But he remembered our treachery 
and was grave and dignified accordingly; a tendency 
which increased as he observed on our part a disposi- 



126 THE OREGON TRAIL 

5 7otion to laugh at him. After remaining an hour or 
two at the fort he rode away with his friends, and we 
have heard nothing of him since. As for R., he kept 
carefully aloof. It was but too evident that we had 
the unhappiness to have forfeited the kind regards of 

5 75 our London fellow-traveller. 

NOTE 

Somewhat more than a year from this time Shaw happened to 
be in New York, and coming one morning down the steps of 
the Astor House, encountered a small newsboy with a bundle of 
penny papers under his arm, who screamed in his ear, "Another 
580 great battle in Mexico!" Shaw bought a paper, and having 
perused the glorious intelligence, was looking over the remaining 
columns, when the following paragraph attracted his notice: 

"English Travelling Sportsmen — Among the notable 
arrivals in town are two English gentlemen, William and John 

585 C, Esqrs., at the Clinton Hotel, on their return home after an 
extended buffalo -hunting tour in Oregon and the wild West. 
Their party crossed the continent in March, 1846, since when our 
travellers have seen the wonders of our great West, the Sandwich 
Islands, and the no less agreeable Coast of Western Mexico, 

590 California, and Peru. With the real zeal of sportsmen they have 
pursued adventure whenever it has offered, and returned with 
not only a correct knowledge*of the West, but with many a trophy 
that shows they have found the grand sport they sought. The 
account of 'Oregon,' given by those observing travellers, is most 

595 glowing, and though upon a pleasure trip, the advantages to be 
realized by commercial men have not been overlooked, and they 
prophesy for that 'Western State ' a prosperity not exceeded at the 
east. The fisheries are spoken of as the best in the country, and 
only equalled by the rare facilities for agriculture. A trip like 

600 this now closed is a rare undertaking, but as interesting as rare 
to those who are capable of a full appreciation of all the wonders 
that met them in the magnificent region they have traversed." 

In some admiration at the heroic light in which Jack and the 

Captain were here set forth, Shaw pocketed the newspaper, and 

605 proceeded to make inquiry after his old fellow-travellers. Jack 

was out of town, but the Captain was quietly established at his 

hotel. Except that the red moustache was shorn away, he was 



THE OREGON TRAIL 127 

in all respects the same man whom we had left upon the South 
Fork of the Platte. Every recollection of former differences had 
610 vanished from his mind, and he greeted his visitor most cordia ly. 
'^ Where is R.?" asked Shaw. ''Gone to the devil, hastily 
replied the Captain; ''that is. Jack and I parted from him at 
Oregon City, and haven't seen him since. " He next proceeded 
to rive an account of his journeyings after leaving us at Fort 

615 Laramie. No sooner, it seemed, had he done so, than he and 
Tack began to slaughter the buffalo with unrelenting fury, but 
when they reached the other side of the South Pass their rifles 
were laid by as useless, since there were neither Indians nor game 
to exercise them upon. From this point the journey, as the 

620 Captain expressed it, was a great bore. When they reached the 
mouth of the Columbia, he and Jack sailed for the Sandwich 
Islands, whence they proceeded to Panama, across the Isthmus, 
and came by sea to New Orleans. 

Shaw and our friend spent the evening together, and when 

625 they finally separated at two o'clock in the morning, the Cap- 
tain's ruddy face was ruddier than ever. 



CHAPTER X 



THE WAR-PARTIES 



"'By the nine gods he swore it, 
And named a trysting-day, 
And bade his messengers ride forth, 
East and west and south and north, 
5 To summon his array." 

— Lays of Ancient Rome 

The summer of 1846 was a season of much war- 
like excitement among all the western bands of the 
Dahcotah. In 1845, they encountered great re- 
verses. Many war-parties had been sent out; some 

1 oof them had been totally cut off, and others had 

returned broken and disheartened; so that the whole 
nation was in mourning. Among the rest, ten war- 
riors had gone to the Snake country, led by the son 
of a prominent Ogallallah chief, called the Whirlwind. 

1 5 In passing over Laramie Plains they encountered a 
superior number of their enemies, were surrounded, 
and killed to a man. Having performed this exploit, 
the Snakes became alarmed, dreading the resentment 
of the Dahcotah, and they hastened therefore to sig- 

2onify their wish for peace by sending the scalp of the 
slain partisan, together with a small parcel of tobacco 
attached, to his tribesmen and relations. They had 
employed old Vaskiss, the trader, as their messenger, 
and the scalp was the same that hung in our room at 

2 5 the fort. But the Whirlwind proved inexorable. 

Though his character hardly corresponds with his 
name, he is nevertheless an Indian, and hates the 
Snakes with his whole soul. Long before the scalp 
arrived he had made his preparations for revenge, 

128 



THE OREGON TRAIL 129 

30 He sent messengers with presents and tobacco to all the 
Dahcotah within three hundred miles, proposing a 
grand combination to chastise the Snakes, and naming 
a place and time of rendezvous. The plan was 
readily adopted, and at this moment many villages, 

35 probably embracing in the whole five or six thousand 
souls, were slow^ly creeping over the prairies and tend- 
ing toward the common centre at "La Bonte's camp," 
on the Platte. Here their war-like rites were to be 
celebrated with more than ordinary solemnity and a 

40 thousand warriors, as it was said, were to set out for 
the enemy's country. The characteristic result of 
this preparation will appear in the sequel. 

I was greatly rejoiced to hear of it. I had come 
into the country almost exclusively with a view of 

45 observing the Indian character. Having from child- 
hood felt a curiosity on this subject, and having 
failed completely to gratify it by reading, I resolved 
to have recourse to observation. I wished to satisfy 
myself with regard to the position of the Indians 

50 among the races of men; the vices and the virtues 
that have sprung from their innate character and 
from their modes of life, their government, their 
superstitions, and their domestic situation. To ac- 
complish my purpose it was necessary to live in the 

5 5 midst of them, and become, as it were, one of them. 
I proposed to join a village, and make myself an inmate 
of one of their lodges ; and henceforward this narrative, 
so far as I am concerned, will be chiefly a record of the 
progress of this design, apparently so easy of accom- 

6oplishment, and the unexpected impediments that op- 
posed it. 

We resolved on no account to miss the rendezvous 
at " La Bonte's camp." Our plan was to leave Delorier 
at the fort, in charge of our equipage and the better 

65 part of our horses, while we took with us nothing but 



I30 THE OREGON TRAIL 

our weapons and the worst animals we had. In all 
probability jealousies and quarrels would arise among 
so many hordes of fierce impulsive savages, congregated 
together under no common head, and many of them 

70 strangers, from remote prairies and mountains. We 
were bound in common prudence to be cautious how 
we excited any feeling of cupidity. This was our 
plan, but unhappily we were not destined to visit 
"La Bonte's camp" in this manner; for one morning a 

75 young Indian came to the fort and brought us evil 
tidings. The new-comer was a dandy of the first 
water. His ugly face was painted with vermilion; 
on his head fluttered the tail of a prairie-cock (a large 
species of pheasant, not found, as I have heard, east- 

80 ward of the Rocky Mountains) ; in his ears were hung 
pendants of shell, and a flaming red blanket was 
wrapped around him. He carried a dragoon-sword 
in his hand solely for display, since the knife, the 
arrow, and the rifle are the arbiters of every prairie 

85 fight; but as no one in this country goes abroad 
unarmed, the dandy carried a bow and arrows in an 
otter-skin quiver at his back. In this guise, and 
bestriding his yellow horse with an air of extreme 
dignity, "The Horse," for that was his name, rode 

90 in at the gate, turning neither to the right nor the 
left, but casting glances askance at the groups of 
squaws who, with their mongrel progeny, were sit- 
ting in the sun before their doors. The evil tidings 
brought by "The Horse" were of the following im- 

9 5 port ; The squaw of Henry Chatillon, a woman with 
whom he had been connected for years by the strongest 
ties which in that country exist between the sexes, 
was dangerously iU. She and her children were in 
the viUage of the Whirlwind, at the distance of a few 

1 00 days' journey. Henry was anxious to see the woman 
before she died, and provide for the safety and support 



THE OREGON TRAIL 131 

of his children, of whom he was extremely fond. To 
have refused him this would have been gross inhumanity. 
We abandoned our plan of joining Smoke's village and 

105 of proceeding with it to the rendezvous, and determined 
to meet the Whirlwind, and go in his company. 

I had been slightly ill for several weeks, but on 
the third night after reaching Fort Laramie a violent 
pain awoke me and I found myself attacked by the 

1 10 same disorder that occasioned such heavy losses to 
the army on the Rio Grande. In a day and a half 
I was reduced to extreme weakness, so that I could 
not walk without pain and effort. Having within 
that time taken six grains of opium, without the 

1 15 least beneficial effect, and having no medical ad- 
viser, nor any choice of diet, I resolved to throw my- 
self upon Providence for recovery, using, without 
regard to the disorder, any portion of strength that 
might remain to me. So on the twentieth of June 

1 20 we set out from Fort Laramie to meet the Whirl- 
wind's village. Though aided by the high-bowed 
*' mountain-saddle," I could scarcely keep my seat 
on horseback. Before we left the fort we hired 
another man, a long-haired Canadian, with a face 

1 25 like an owl's, contrasting oddly enough with Delorier's 
mercurial countenance. This was not the only rein- 
forcement to our party. A vagrant Indian trader, 
named Reynal, joined us, together with his squaw, 
Margot, and her two nephews, our dandy friend, "The 

1 30 Horse," and his younger brother, "The Hail Storm." 
Thus accompanied, we betook ourselves to the prairie, 
leaving the beaten trail, and passing over the desolate 
hills that flank the bottoms of Laramie Creek. In all, 
Indians and whites, we counted eight men and one 

135 woman. 

Reynal, the trader, the image of sleek and selfish 
complacency, carried "The Horse's" dragoon-sword 



132 THE OREGON TRAIL 

in his hand, delighting apparently in this useless 
parade; for, from spending half his life among In- 

Modians, he had caught not only their habits but their 
ideas. Margot, a female animal of more than two 
hundred pounds' weight, was couched in the basket 
of a travail, such as I have before described; besides 
her ponderous bulk, various domestic utensils w^ere 

145 attached to the vehicle, and she was leading by a trail- 
rope a pack-horse, who carried the covering of Rey- 
nal's lodge. Delorier walked briskly by the side of 
the cart, and Raymond came behind, swearing at the 
spare horses which it was his business to drive. The 

1 50 restless young Indians, their quivers at their backs 
and their bows in their hands, galloped over the hills, 
often starting a wolf or an antelope from the thick 
growth of wild-sage bushes. Shaw and I were in keep- 
ing with the rest of the rude cavalcade, having, in the 

155 absence of other clothing, adopted the buckskin attire 
of the trappers. Henry Chatillon rode in advance of the 
whole. Thus we passed hill after hill and hollow 
after hollow, a country arid, broken, and so parched 
by the sun that none of the plants familiar to our 

1 60 more favored soil would flourish upon it, though 
there were multitudes of strange medicinal herbs, 
more especially the absanth, which covered every 
declivity, and cacti were hanging like reptiles at the 
edges of every ravine. At length we ascended a 

1 65 high hill, our horses treading upon pebbles of flint 
agate; and rough jasper, until, gaining the top, 
we looked down on the wild bottoms of Laramie 
Creek, which, far below us, wound like a writhing 
snake from side to side of the narrow interval, amid 

170 a growth of shattered cotton- wood and ash trees. 
Lines of tall cliffs, white as chalk, shut in this green 
strip of woods and meadow-land, into which we 
descended and encamped for the night. In the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 133 

morning we passed a wide grassy plain by the river; 

175 there was a grove in front, and beneath its shadows 
the ruins of an old trading-fort of logs. The grove 
bloomed with myriads of wild roses, w4th their sweet 
perfume fraught w^ith recollections of home. As we 
emerged from the trees, a rattlesnake, as large as a 

1 80 man's arm and more than four feet long, lay coiled 
on a rock, fiercely rattling and hissing at us; a gray 
hare, double the size of those of New England, leaped 
up from the tall ferns; curlew were screaming over 
our heads, and a whole host of little prairie-dogs 

185 sat yelping at us at the mouths of their burrows on 
the dry plain beyond. Suddenly an antelope leaped 
up from the wild-sage bushes, gazed eagerly at us, 
and then, erecting his white tail, stretched away like 
a greyhound. The two Indian boys found a white 

1 90 wolf, as large as a calf, in a hollow, and giving a sharp 
yell, they galloped after him; but the w^olf leaped into 
the stream and swam across. Then came the crack 
of a rifle, the bullet whistling harmlessly over his 
head, as he scrambled up the steep declivity, rattling 

195 down stones and earth into the water below\ Advanc- 
ing a httle, we beheld, on the farther bank of the 
stream, a spectacle not common even in that region; 
for, emerging from among the trees, a herd of some 
two hundred elk came out upon the meadow, their 

200 antlers clattering as they walked forward in a dense 
throng. Seeing us, they broke into a run, rushing 
across the opening and disappearing among the trees 
and scattered groves. On our left was a barren prairie, 
stretching to the horizon; on our right, a deep gulf, 

205 with Laramie Creek at the bottom. We found our- 
selves at length at the edge of a steep descent; a nar- 
row valley, with long rank grass and scattered trees, 
stretching before us for a mile or more along the course 
of the stream. Reaching the farther end, we stopped 



134 THE OREGON TRAIL 

2ioand encamped. An old huge cotton- wood tree spread 
its branches horizontally over our tent. Laramie 
Creek, circling before our camp, half-inclosed us; 
it swept along the bottom of a line of tall w^hite cliffs 
that looked down on us from the farther bank. There 

2 15 were dense copses on our right; the cliffs, too, were 
half-hidden by shrubbery, though behind us a few 
Cottonwood trees, dotting the green prairie, alone im- 
peded the view, and friend or enemy could be dis- 
cerned in that direction at a mile's distance. Here 

2 20 we resolved to remain and await the arrival of the 
Whirlwind, who would certainly pass this way in his 
progress toward La Bonte's camp. To go in search 
of him was not expedient, both on account of the 
broken and impracticable nature of the country 

225 and the uncertainty of his position and movements; 
besides, our horses were almost worn out, and I was 
in no condition to travel. We had good grass, good 
water, tolerable fish from the stream, and plenty of 
smaller game, such as antelope and deer, though no 

2 30 buffalo. There was one httle drawback to our satis- 
faction; a certain extensive tract of bushes and dried 
grass just behind us, which it was by no means advis- 
able to enter, since it sheltered a numerous brood of 
rattlesnakes. Henry Chatillon again dispatched "The 

235 Horse" to the village, with a message to his squaw 
that she and her relatives should leave the rest and 
push on as rapidly as possible to our camp. 

Our daily routine soon became as regular as that 
of a well-ordered household. The weather-beaten 

2 40 old tree was in the centre; our rifles generally rested 
against its vast trunk, and our saddles were flung on 
the ground around it; its distorted roots were so 
twisted as to form one or two convenient arm-chairs, 
where we could sit in the shade and read or smoke; 

245 but meal-times became, on the whole, the most inter- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 135 

esting hours of the day, and a bountiful provision 
was made for them. An antelope or a deer usually- 
swung from a stout bough, and haunches wxre sus- 
pended against the trunk. That camp is daguerreo- 

2 50 typed on my memory; the old tree, the white tent, 
with Shaw sleeping in the shadow of it, and Reynal's 
miserable lodge close by the bank of the stream. 
It was a wretched oven-shaped structure, made of 
begrimed and tattered buffalo-hides stretched over 

255 a frame of poles; one side was open, and at the side 
of the opening hung the powder-horn and bullet- 
pouch of the owner, together with his long red pipe, 
and a rich quiver of otter-skin, with a bow and arrows; 
for Reynal, an Indian in most things but color, chose 

260 to hunt buffalo with these primitive weapons. In the 
darkness of this cavern-like habitation might be dis- 
cerned Madame Margot, her overgrown bulk stowed 
away among her domestic implements, furs, robes, 
blankets, and painted cases of par^ fleche, in which 

265 dried meat is kept. Here she sat from sunrise to sun- 
set, a bloated impersonation of gluttony and laziness, 
while her affectionate proprietor was smoking, or beg- 
ging petty gifts from us, or telling lies concerning his 
own achievements, or perchance engaged in the more 

2 70 profitable occupation of cooking some preparation of 
prairie delicacies. Reynal was an adept at this work; 
he and Delorier have joined forces, and are hard at 
work together over the fire, while Raymond spreads, by 
way of table-cloth, a buffalo-hide carefully whitened 

275 with pipe-clay, on the grass before the tent. Here, 
with ostentatious display, he arranges the teacups and 
plates; and then, creeping on all fours, like a dog, 
he thrusts his head in at the opening of the tent. For 
a moment we see his round owlish eyes rolling wildly, 

280 as if the idea he came to communicate had suddenly 
escaped him; then collecting his scattered thoughts. 



136 THE OREGON TRAIL 

as if by an effort, he informs us that supper is ready, 
and instantly withdraws. 

When sunset came, and at that hour the wild and 

285 desolate scene would assume a new aspect, the horses 
were driven in. They had been grazing all day in 
the neighboring meadow, but now they were picketed 
close about the camp. As the prairie darkened 
we sat and conversed around the fire, until becoming 

290 drowsy we spread our saddles on the ground, wrapped 
our blankets around us, and lay down. We never 
placed a guard, having by this time become too indo- 
lent; but Henry Chatillon folded his loaded rifle in 
the same blanket with himself, observing that he 

295 always took it to bed with him when he camped in that 
place. Henry was too bold a man to use such a pre- 
caution without good cause. We had a hint now and 
then that our situation was none of the safest ; several 
Crow war-parties were known to be in the vicinity, 

300 and one of them, that passed here some time before, 
had peeled the bark from a neighboring tree, and en- 
graved upon the white wood certain hieroglyphics, to 
signify that they had invaded the territories of their 
enemies, the Dahcotah, and set them at defiance. 

305 One morning a thick mist covered the whole country. 
Shaw and Henry went out to ride, and soon came back 
with a startling piece of intelligence; they had found 
within rifle-shot of our camp the recent trail of about 
thirty horsemen. They could not be whites, and 

3 10 they could not be Dahcotah, since we knew no such 
parties to be in the neighborhood; therefore they 
must be Crows. Thanks to that friendly mist, we 
had escaped a hard battle; they would inevitably 
have attacked us and our Indian companions had they 

315 seen our camp. Whatever doubts we might have 
entertained were quite removed a day or two after 
bv two or three Dahcotah, who came to us with an 



I 



THE ORiF:GON TRAIL 137 

account of having hidden in a ravine on that very 
morning, from whence they saw and counted the 

320 Crows; they said that they followed them, carefully 
keeping out of sight, as they passed up Chug^vater; 
that here the Crows discovered five dead bodies of 
Dahcotah, placed according to the national custom 
in trees, and flinging them to the ground, they held 

325 their guns against them and blew them to atoms. 

If our camp were not altogether safe, still it was 
comfortable enough; at least it w^as so to Shaw, for 
I was tormented with illness and vexed by the delay 
in the accomplishment of my designs. When a 

330 respite in my disorder gave me some returning strength, 
I rode out well armed upon the prairie, or bathed 
with Shaw in the stream, or waged a petty warfare with 
the inhabitants of a neighboring prairie-dog village. 
Around our lire at night we employed ourselves in 

335 inveighing against the fickleness and inconstancy of 
Indians, and execrating the Whirlwind and all his 
village. At last the thing grew insufferable. 

"To-morrow morning," said I, "I will start for 
the fort, and see if I can hear any news there." Late 

340 that evening, when the fire had sunk low, and all the 
camp were asleep, a loud cry sounded from the dark- 
ness. Henry started up, recognized the voice, re- 
plied to it, and our dandy friend, "The Horse," rode 
in among us, just returned from his mission to the 

345 village. He coolly picketed his mare, without saying 
a word, sat down by the fire and began to eat, but his 
imperturbable philosophy was too much for our patience. 
Where was the village? — about fifty miles south of us; 
it was moving slowly and w^ould not arrive in less than 

350 a week; and where w^as Henry's squaw^ ? Coming as 
fast as she could w^ith Mahto-Tatonka, and the rest of 
her brothers, but she would never reach us, for she was 
dving, and asking every moment for Henry. Henry's 



13^ thp: or?:gon trail 

manly face became clouded and downcast; he said 

35 5 that if we were willing he would go in the morning 
to find her, at which Shaw offered to accompany 
him. 

We saddled our horses at sunrise. Reynal pro- 
tested vehemently against being left alone, with no- 

360 body but the two Canadians and the young Indians, 
when enemies were in the neighborhood. Disre- 
garding his complaints, we left him, and coming to 
the mouth of Chugwater, separated, Shaw and Henry 
turning to the right, up the bank of the stream, while 

365 I made for the fort. 

Taking leave for a while of my friend and the 
unfortunate squaw, I will relate by way of episode 
what I saw and did at Fort Laramie. It was not 
more than eighteen miles distant, and I reached it 

370 in three hours; a shrivelled little figure, wrapped 
from head to foot in a dingy white Canadian capote, 
stood in the gateway,- holding by a cord of bull's hide 
a shaggy wild horse, which he had lately caught. His 
sharp prominent features and his little keen snake- 

375 like eyes looked out from beneath the shadowy hood 
of the capote, which was drawn over his head exactly 
like the cowl of a Capuchin friar. His face was 
extremely thin and like an old piece of leather, and his 
mouth spread from ear to ear. Extending his long, 

380 wiry hand, he welcomed me with something more 
cordial than the ordinary cold salute of an Indian, 
for we were excellent friends. He had made an ex- 
change of horses to our mutual advantage; and Paul, 
thinking himself well treated, had declared every- 

385 where that the white man had a good heart. He was 
a Dahcotah from the Missouri, a reputed son of the 
half-breed interpreter, Pierre Dorion, so often men- 
tioned in Irving's "Astoria." He said that he was 
going to Richard's trading-house to sell his horse to 



THE OREGON TRAIL 139 

390 some emigrants who were encamped there, and asked 
me to go with him. We forded the stream together, 
Paul dragging his wild charge behind him. As we 
passed over the sandy plains beyond, he grew quite 
communicative. Paul was a cosmopolitan in his 

395 way; he had been to the settlements of the whites, 
and visited in peace and war most of the tribes within 
the range of a thousand miles. He spoke a jargon of 
French and another of English, yet nevertheless he 
was a thorough Indian; and as he told of the bloody 

400 deeds of his own people against their enemies his little 
eye would glitter with a fierce lustre. He told how the 
Dahcotah exterminated a village of the Hohays on the 
Upper Missouri, slaughtering men, women, and 
children; and how an overwhelming force of them 

405 cut off sixteen of the brave Delawares, who fought 
like wolves to the last, amid the throng of their ene- 
mies. He told me also another story, which I did not 
believe until I had heard it confirmed from so many 
independent sources that no room was left for doubt. 

410 1 am tempted to introduce it here." 

Six years ago, a fellow named Jim Beckwith, a 
mongrel of French, x\merican, and negro blood, was 
trading for the Fur Company, in a very large village 
of the Crows. Jim Beckwith was last summer at St. 

415 Louis. He is a ruffian of the first stamp; bloody 
and treacherous, without honor or honesty; such at 
least is the character he bears upon the prairie. Yet 
in his case all the standard rules of character fail, for 
though he will stab a man in his sleep, he will also 

420 perform most desperate acts of daring; such, for in- 
stance, as the following: While he was in the Crow 
village, a Blackfoot war-party, between thirty and forty 
in number, came stealing through the country, killing 
stragglers and carrying off horses. The Crow warriors 

425 got upon their trail and pressed them so closely that 



I40 THE OREGON TRAIL 

they could not escape, at which the Blackfeet, throwing 
up a semi-circular breastwork of logs at the foot of a 
precipice, coolly awaited their approach. The logs 
and sticks, piled four or five feet high, protected them 

430 in front. The Crows might have swept over the breast- 
work and exterminated their enemies; but though out- 
numbering them tenfold, they did not dream of 
storming the little fortification. Such a proceeding 
would be altogether repugnant to their notions of 

43 5 warfare. Whooping and yelling, and jumping from 
side to side like devils incarnate, they showered 
bullets and arrows upon the logs; not a Blackfoot 
was hurt, but several Crows, in spite of their leaping 
and dodging, were shot down. In this childish 

440 manner, the fight went on for an hour or two. Now 
and then a Crow warrior in an ecstasy of valor and 
vainglory would scream forth his war-song, boasting 
himself the bravest and greatest of mankind, and grasp- 
ing his hatchet, would rush up and strike it upon the 

445 breastwork, and then as he retreated to his companions, 
fall dead under a shower of arrows; yet no combined 
attack seemed to be dreamed of. The Blackfeet re- 
mained secure in their intrenchment. At last Jim 
Beckwith lost patience: 

450 "You are all fools and old women," he said to 
the Crows; "come with me, if any of you are brave 
enough, and I will show you how to fight." 

He threw off his trapper's frock of buckskin and 
stripped himself naked like the Indians themselves. 

455 He left his rifle on the ground, and taking in his 
hand a small light hatchet, he ran over the prairie 
to the right, concealed by a hollow from the eyes of 
the Blackfeet. Then climbing up the rocks, he 
gained the top of the precipice behind them. Forty 

4 60 or fifty young Crow warriors followed him. By the 
cries and whoops that rose from below he knew that 



THE OREGON TRAIL 141 

the Blackfeet were just beneath him; and running 
forw^ard he leaped down the rock into the midst of 
them. As he fell he caught one by the long loose 

465 hair, and, dragging him down, tomahawked him; 
then grasping another by the belt at his waist, he 
struck him also a stunning blow, and gaining his 
feet, shouted the Crow war-cry. He swung his 
hatchet so fiercely around him that the astonished 

4 70 Blackfeet bore back and gave him room. He might, 
had he chosen, have leaped over the breastwork 
and escaped; but this was not necessary, for with 
devilish yells the Crow warriors came dropping in 
quick succession over the rock among their enemies. 

475 The main body of the Crows, too, answered the cry 
from the front, and rushed up simultaneously. The 
convulsive struggle within the breastwork was fright- 
ful; for an instant the Blackfeet fought and yelled 
like pent-up tigers; but the butchery was soon com- 

48oplete, and the mangled bodies lay piled up together 

under the precipice. Not a Blackfoot made his escape. 

As Paul finished his story we came in sight of 

Richard's fort. It stood in the middle of the plain; 

a disorderly crowd of men around it, and an emi- 

485 grant camp a little in front. 

"Now, Paul," said I, ''where are your Minni- 
congew lodges?" 

"Not come yet," said Paul, "maybe come to- 
morrow." 

490 Tw^o large villages of a band of Dahcotah had 
come three hundred miles from the Missouri to join 
in the war, and they were expected to reach Rich- 
ard's that morning. There was as yet no sign of 
their approach; so pushing through a noisy, drunken 

495 crowd, I entered an apartment of logs and mud, the 
largest in the fort; it was full of men of various 
races and complexions, all more or less drunk. A 



142 THE OREGON TRAIL 

company of California emigrants, it seemed, had 
made the discovery at this late day that they had 
50c encumbered themselves with too many supplies for 
their journey. A part, therefore, they had thrown 
away or sold at great loss to the traders, but had 
determined to get rid of their very copious stock of 
Missouri whiskey by drinking it on the spot. Here 
505 were maudlin squaws stretched on piles of buffalo- 
robes; squalid Mexicans, armed with bows and 
arrows; Indians sedately drunk; long-haired Cana- 
dians and trappers, and American backwoodsmen in 
brown homespun; the well-beloved pistol and bowie- 
5 10 knife displayed openly at their sides. In the middle 
of the room a tall, lank man, with a dingy broad- 
cloth coat, was haranguing the company in the style 
of the stump orator. With one hand he sawed the 
•air, and with the other clutched firmly a brown jug 
5 1 5 of whiskey, which he applied every moment to his 
lips, forgetting that he had drained the contents 
long ago. Richard formally introduced me to this 
personage, who was no less a man than Colonel R., 
once the leader of the party. Instantly the Colonel, 
520 seizing me, in the absence of buttons, by the leather 
fringes of my frock, began to define his position. 
His men, he said, had mutinied and deposed him; 
but still he exercised over them the influence of a 
superior mind; in all but the name he was yet their 
525 chief. As the Colonel spoke, I looked round on the 
wild assemblage, and could not help thinking that 
he was but ill qualified to conduct such men across 
the deserts to California. Conspicuous among the 
rest stood three tall young men, grandsons of Daniel 
530 Boone. They had clearly inherited the adventurous 
character of that prince of pioneers, but I saw no 
signs of the quiet and tranquil spirit that so remark- 
ably distinguished him. 



THE OREGON TRAIL i43 



Fearful was the fate that months after overtook 
5 35 some of the members of that party. General Kearney, 
on his late return from California, brought in the 
account how they were intermpted by the deep snows 
among the mountains, and, maddened by cold and 
hunger, fed upon each other's flesh 1 
540 I got tired of the confusion. "Come, Paul," said 
I, "we will be off." Paul sat in the sun, under the 
wall of the fort. He jumped up, mounted, and we 
rode toward Fort Laramie. When we reached it, a 
man came out of the gate with a pack at his back 
545 and a rifle on his shoulder; others were gathering 
about him, shaking him by the hand, as if taking 
leave. I thought it a strange thing that a man should 
set out alone and on foot for the prairie. I soon got 
an explanation. Perrault — this, if I recollect right, 
550 was the Canadian's name — had quarrelled with the 
bourgeois, and the fort was too hot to hold him. Bor- 
deaux, inflated with his transient authority, had 
abused him, and received a blow in return. The men 
then sprang at each other, and grappled in the middle 
555 of the fort. Bordeaux was down in an instant, at the 
mercy of the incensed Canadian; had not an old 
Indian, the brother of his squaw, seized hold of his 
antagonist, he would have fared ill. Perrault broke 
loose from the old Indian, and both the white men ran 
5 60 to their rooms for their guns; but when Bordeaux, 
looking from his door, saw the Canadian, gun in hand, 
standing in the area and calling on him to come out 
and fight, his heart failed him; he chose to remain 
where he was. In vain the old Indian, scandalized 
565 by his brother-in-law's cowardice, called upon him to 
go upon the prairie and fight it out in the white man's 
manner; and Bordeaux's own squaw, equally incensed, 
screamed to her lord and master that he was a dog 
and an old woman. It all availed nothing. Bor- 



144 THE OREGON TRAIL 

5 7odeaux's prudence got the better of his valor, and he 
would not stir. Perrault stood showering oppro- 
brious epithets at the recreant bourgeois. Growing 
tired of this, he made up a pack of dried meat, and 
slinging it at his back, set out alone for Fort Pierre, 

5 75 on the Missouri, a distance of three hundred miles, 
over a desert country, full of hostile Indians. 

I remained in the fort that night. In the morn- 
ing as I was coming out from breakfast, conversing 
with a trader named McCluskey, I saw a strange 

580 Indian leaning against the side of the gate. He 
was a tall, strong man, with heavy features. 
''Who is he?" I asked. 

''That's the Whirlwind," said McCluskey. "He 
is the fellow that made all this stir about the war. 

585 It's always the way with the Sioux; they never stop 
cutting each other's throats; it's all they are fit for; 
instead of sitting in their lodges, and getting robes 
to trade with us in the winter. If this war goes on, 
we'll make a poor trade of it next season, I reckon." 

590 And this was the opinion of all the traders, who 
were vehemently opposed to the war, from the serious 
injury that it must occasion to their interests. The 
Whirlwind left his village the day before to make 
a visit to the fort. His warlike ardor had abated not 

5 9 5 a little since he first conceived the design of avenging 
his son's death. The long and complicated prepara- 
tions for the expedition were too much for his fickle, 
inconstant disposition. That morning Bordeaux fas- 
tened upon him, made him presents, and told him that 

600 if he went to war he would destroy his horses and kill 
no buffalo to trade with the white men; in short, that 
he was a fool to think of such a thing, and had better 
make up his mind to sit quietly in his lodge and smoke 
his pipe like a wise man. The Whirlwind's pur- 

605 pose was evidently shaken; he had become tired, 



THE OREGON 'TRAIL 145 

like a child, of his favorite plan. Bordeaux exult- 
ingly predicted that he would not go to war. My 
philanthropy at that time was no match for my curi- 
osity, and I was vexed at the possibility that after 

610 all, I might lose the rare opportunity of seeing the 
formidable ceremonies of war. The Whirlwind, how- 
ever, had merely thrown the firebrand; the con- 
flagration was become general. All the western bands 
of the Dahcotah were bent on war; and as I heard 

615 from McCluskey, six large villages were already 
gathered on a little stream, forty miles distant, and were 
daily calling to the Great Spirit to aid them in their 
enterprise. McCluskey had just left them, and repre- 
sented them as on their way to La Bonte's camp, 

620 which they would reach in a week, unless they should 
learn that there were no buffalo there. I did not like 
this condition, for buffalo this season were rare in the 
neighborhood. There were also the two Minnicon- 
grew villages that I mentioned before; but about noon 

625 an Indian came from Richard's fort with the news 
that they were quarrelling, breaking up, and dispers- 
ing. So much for the whiskey of the emigrants! 
Finding themselves unable to drink the whole, they 
had sold the residue to these Indians, and it needed 

630 no prophet to foretell the result; a spark dropped into 
a powder-magazine would not have produced a 
quicker effect. Instantly the old jealousies and rival- 
ries and smothered feuds that exist in an Indian village 
broke out into furious quarrels. They forgot the war- 

635 like enterprise that had already brought them three 
hundred miles. They seemed like ungoverned chil- 
dren inflamed with the fiercest passions of men. 
Several of them were stabbed in the drunken tumult; 
and in the morning they scattered and moved back 

640 toward the Missouri in small parties. I feared that, 
after all, the long-projected meeting and the cere- 



146 THE OREGON TRAIL 

monies that were to attend it might never take place, 
and I should lose so admirable an opportunity of 
seeing the Indian under his most fearful and character- 

645 istic aspect; however, in foregoing this, I should avoid 
a very fair probability of being plundered and stripped, 
and it might be, stabbed or shot into the bargain. 
Consoling myself with this reflection, I prepared to 
carry the news, such as it was, to the camp. 

650 I caught my horse, and to my vexation found he 
had lost a shoe and broken his tender white hoof 
against the rocks. Horses are shod at Fort Lara- 
mie at the moderate rate of three dollars a foot; so 
I tied Hendrick to a beam in the corral, and sum- 

65 5moned Roubidou, the blacksmith. Roubidou, with 
the hoof between his knees, was at work with hammer 
and file, and I was inspecting the process, when a 
strange voice addressed me. 

''Two more gone under! Well, there is more 

660 of us left yet. Here's Jean Gras and me off to the 
mountains to-morrow. Our turn will come next, I 
suppose. It's a hard life, anyhow!" 

I looked up and saw a little man, not much more 
than five feet high, but of very square and strong 

665 proportions. In appearance he was particularly 
dingy; for his old buckskin frock was black and 
polished with time and grease, and his belt, knife, 
pouch, and powder-horn appeared to have seen the 
roughest service. The first joint of each foot was 

670 entirely gone, having been frozen off several winters 
before, and his moccasins were curtailed in propor- 
tion. His whole appearance and equipment bespoke 
the "free trapper." He had a round ruddy face, 
animated with a spirit of carelessness and gayety not 

675 at all in accordance with the words he had just spoken. 
'"Two more gone,'" said I; "what do you mean 
by that?" 



THE OREGON TRAIL 147 

"Oh," said he, "the Arapahoes have just killed 
two of us in the mountains. Old Bull-Tail has 
680 come to tell us. They stabbed one behind his back, 
and shot the other with his own rifle. That's the 
way we hve here! I mean to give up trapping after 
this year. My squaw says she wants a pacing horse 
and some red ribbons; I'll make enough beaver 
685 to get them for her, and then I'm done! I'll go 
below and live on a farm." 

"Your bones will dry on the prairie, Rouleau!" 
said another trapper, who was standing by; a strong, 
brutal-looking fellow, with a face as surly as a bull- 
690 dog's. 

Rouleau only laughed, and began to hum a tune 
and shuffle a dance on his stumps of feet. 

"You'll see us, before long, passing up your way," 
said the other man. 
695 "Well," said I, "stop and take a cup of coffee 
with us;" and as it was quite late in the afternoon, 
I prepared to leave the fort at once. 

As I rode out a train of emigrant wagons was 
passing across the stream. "Whar are ye goin', 
700 stranger?" Thus I was saluted by two or three voices 
at once. 

"About eighteen miles up the creek." 

"It's mighty late to be going that far! Make 
haste, ye'd better, and keep a bright lookout for 
705 Indians!" 

I thought the advice too good to be neglected. 
Fording the stream, I passed at a round trot over 
the plains beyond. But "the more haste, the worse 
speed." I proved the truth of the proverb by the 
7 10 time I reached the hills three miles from the fort. 
The trail was faintly marked, and riding forward 
with more rapidity than caution, I lost sight of it. 
I kept on in a direct line, guided by Laramie Creek, 



148 THE OREGON TRAIL 

which I could see at intervals darkly glistening in 

71 5 the evening sun, at the bottom of the woody gulf 
on my right. Half an hour before sunset I came 
upon its banks. There was something exciting in 
the wild solitude of the place. An antelope sprang 
suddenly from the sage bushes before me. As he 

720 leaped gracefully not thirty yards before my horse, 
I fired, and instantly he spun round and fell. Quite 
sure of him, I walked my horse toward him, leisurely 
reloading my rifle, when, to my surprise, he sprang 
up and trotted rapidly away on three legs into the 

725 dark recesses of the hills, whither I had no time to 
follow. Ten minutes after, I was passing along the 
bottom of a deep valley, and chancing to look behind 
me, I saw in the dim light that something was follow- 
ing. Supposing it to be a wolf, I slid from my seat 

730 and sat down behind my horse to shoot it; but as it 
came up, I saw by its motions that it was another ante- 
lope. It approached within a hundred yards, arched its 
graceful neck, and gazed intently. I levelled at the white 
spot on its chest, and was about to fire, when it started 

735 off, ran first to one side and then to the other, like a 
vessel tacking against a wind, and at last stretched 
away at full speed. Then it stopped again, looked 
curiously behind it, and trotted up as before; but 
not so boldly, for it soon paused and stood gazing 

740 at me. I fired; it leaped upward and fell upon its 
tracks. Measuring the distance, I found it two hun- 
dred and four paces. When I stood by his side, the 
antelope turned his expiring eye upward. It was 
like a beautiful woman's, dark and rich. "Fortunate 

745 that I am in a hurry," thought I; "I might be troubled 
with remorse, if I had time for it." 

Cutting the animal up, not in the most skilful manner, 
I hung the meat at the back of my saddle, and rode 
on again. The hills (I could not remember one of 



THE OREGON TRAIL 149 

750 them) closed around me. ''It is too late," thought I, 
"to go forward. I will stay here to-night, and look 
for the path in the morning." As a last effort, however, 
I ascended a high hill, from which, to my great satis- 
faction, I could see Laramie Creek stretching before 

755 me, twisting from side to side amid ragged patches of 
timber, and far off, close beneath the shadows of the 
trees, the ruins of the old trading-fort were visible. I 
reached them at twilight. It was far from pleasant, 
in that uncertain light, to be pushing through the dense 

760 trees and shrubbery of the grove beyond. I listened 
anxiously for the foot-fall of man or beast. Nothing 
was stirring but one harmless brown bird, chirping 
among the branches. I was glad when I gained the 
open prairie once more, where I could see if any- 

765 thing approached. When I came to the mouth of 
Chugwater it was totally dark. Slackening the 
reins, I let my horse take his own course. He trotted 
on with unerring instinct, and by nine o'clock was 
scrambling down the steep descent into the meadows 

7 70 where we were encamped. While I was looking in 
vain for the light of the fire, Hendrick, with keener 
perceptions, gave a loud neigh, which was immediately 
answered in a shrill note from the distance. In a 
moment I was hailed from the darkness by the voice 

775 of Reynal, who had come out, rifle in hand, to see who 
was approaching. 

He, with his squaw, the two Canadians, and the 
Indian boys, were the sole inmates of the camp, 
Shaw and Henry Chatillon being still absent. At 

780 noon of the following day they came back, their 
horses looking none the better for the journey. 
Henry seemed dejected. The woman was dead, 
and his children must henceforward be exposed, 
without a protector, to the hardships and vicissitudes 

785 of Indian life. Even in the midst of his grief he had. 



ISO THE OREGON TRAIL 

not forgotten his attachment to his bourgeois, for he 
had procured among his Indian relatives two beauti- 
fully ornamented buffalo-robes, which he spread on 
the ground as a present to us. 

790 Shaw lighted his pipe, and told me in a few words 
the history of his journey. When I went to the fort 
they left me, as I mentioned, at the mouth of Chug- 
water. They followed the course of the little stream 
all day, traversing a desolate and barren country. 

795 Several times they came upon the fresh traces of a 
large war-party, the same, no doubt, from whom we 
had so narrowly escaped an attack. At an hour be- 
fore sunset, without encountering a human being by 
the way, they came upon the lodges of the squaw and 

800 her brothers, who, in compliance with Henry's message, 
had left the Indian village, in order to join us at our 
camp. The lodges were already pitched, five in num- 
ber, by the side of the stream. The woman lay in one 
of them, reduced to a mere skeleton. For some time she 

805 had been unable to move or speak. Indeed, noth- 
ing had kept her alive but the hope of seeing Henry, 
to whom she was strongly and faithfully attached. 
No sooner did he enter the lodge than she revived, 
and conversed with him the greater part of the night. 

810 Early in the morning she was lifted into a travail, 
and the whole party set out toward our camp. There 
were but five warriors; the rest were women and chil- 
dren. The whole were in great alarm at the proximity 
of the Crow war-party, who would certainly have 

81 5 destroyed them without mercy had they met. They 
had advanced only a mile or two when they discerned 
a horseman, far off, on the edge of the horizon. They 
all stopped, gathering together in the greatest anxiety, 
from which they did not recover until long after the 

820 horseman disappeared ; then they set out again. Henry 
was riding with Shaw, a few rods in advance of the in- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 151 

dians, when Mahto-Tatonka, a younger brother of 
the woman, hastily called after them. Turning 
back, they found all the Indians crowded around 

825 the travail in which the woman was lying. They 
reached her just in time to hear the death-rattle in 
her throat. In a moment she lay dead in the basket 
of the vehicle. A complete stillness succeeded; then 
the Indians raised in concert their cries of lamentation 

830 over the corpse, and among them Shaw clearly dis- 
tinguished those strange sounds resembling the word 
"Halleluyah," which, together, with some other acci- 
dental coincidences, has given rise to the absurd theory 
that the Indians are descended from the ten lost tribes 

835 of Israel. 

The Indian usage required that Henry, as well as 
the other relatives of the w^oman, should make val- 
uable presents, to be placed by the side of the body 
at its last resting-place. Leaving the Indians, he 

840 and Shaw set out for the camp and reached it, as 
we have seen, by hard pushing, at about noon. Hav- 
ing obtained the necessary articles, they immediately 
returned. It was very late and quite dark when they 
again reached the lodges. They were all placed in a 

845 deep hollow among the dreary hills. Four of them 
were just visible through the gloom, but the fifth and 
largest w^as illuminated by the ruddy blaze of a fire 
within, glowing through the half-transparent covering 
of raw-hides. There was a perfect stillness as they 

850 approached. The lodges seemed without a tenant. 
Not a living thing was stirring — there was something 
awful in the scene. They rode up to the entrance of 
the lodge, and there was no sound but the tramp of 
their horses. A squaw came out and took charge of 

855 the animals, without speaking a word. Entering, 
they found the lodge crowded with Indians; a fire 
was burning in the midst, and the mourners encircled 



15^ THE OREGON TRAIL 

it in a triple row. Room was made for the new-comers 
at the head of the lodge, a robe spread for them to sit 

860 upon, and a pipe lighted and handed to them in 
perfect silence. Thus they passed the greater part 
of the night. At times the fire would subside into 
a heap of embers, until the dark figures seated around 
it were scarcely visible; then a squaw would drop upon 

865 it a piece of buffalo-fat, and a bright flame, instantly 
springing up, would reveal on a sudden the crowd of 
wild faces motionless as bronze. The silence continued 
unbroken. It was a relief to Shaw when daylight 
returned and he could escape from this house of mourn- 

870 ing. He and Henry prepared to return homeward; 
first, however, they placed the presents they had brought 
near the body of the squaw, which, most gaudily 
attired, remained in a sitting posture in one of the 
lodges. A fine horse was picketed not far off, des- 

875tined to be killed that morning for the service of her 
spirit, for the woman was lame, and could not travel 
on foot over the dismal prairies to the villages of the 
dead. Food, too, was provided, and household im- 
plements, for her use upon this last journey. 

880 Henry left her to the care of her relatives, and 
came immediately with Shaw to the camp. It was 
some time before he entirely recovered from his 
dejection. 



CHAPTER XI 

SCENES AT THE CAMP 

"Fierce are Albania's children; yet they lack 
Not virtues, were those virtues more mature; 
Where is the foe that ever saw their back ? 
Who can so well the toil of war endure?" 

— Childe Harold 

5 Reynal heard guns fired one day at the distance 
of a mile or two from the camp. He grew nervous 
instantly. Visions of Crow war-parties began to 
haunt his imagination; and when we returned (for 
we were all absent) he renewed his complaints about 
io])eing left alone with the Canadians, and the squaw. 
The day after the cause of the alarm appeared. Four 
trappers, one called Moran, another Saraphin, and the 
others nicknamed "Rouleau" and "Jean Gras," 
came to our camp and joined us. They it was who 
1 5 fired the guns and disturbed the dreams of our con- 
federate Reynal. They soon encamped by our side. 
Their rifles, dingy and battered with hard service, 
rested with ours Against the old tree; their strong, 
rude saddles, their buffalo-robes, their traps, and the 
20 few rough and simple articles of their travelling equip- 
ment were piled near our tent. Their mountain-horses 
were turned to graze in the meadow among our own; 
and the men themselves, no less rough and hardy, used 
to lie half the day in the shade of our tree, lolling on 
2 5 the grass, lazily smoking and telling stories of their 
adventures; and I defy the annals of chivalry to fur- 
nish the record of a life more wild and perilous than 
that of a Rocky Mountain trapper. 

With this efficient reinforcement the agitation of 

153 



154 THE OREGON TRAIL 

SoReynal's nerves subsided. He began to conceive 
a sort of attachment to our old camping-ground, yet 
it was time to change our quarters, since remaining 
too long on one spot must lead to certain unpleasant 
results, not to be borne with unless in a case of dire 

35 necessity. The grass no longer presented a smooth 
surface of turf; it was trampled into mud and clay. 
So we removed to another old tree, larger yet, that 
grew by the river side at a furlong's distance. Its 
trunk was full six feet in diameter; on one side it 

40 was marked by a party of Indians with various inex- 
plicable hieroglyphics, commemorating some war- 
like enterprise, and aloft among the branches were 
the remains of a scaffolding, where dead bodies had 
once been deposited, after the Indian manner. 

45 "There comes Bull-Bear," said Henry Chatillon, 
as we sat on the grass at dinner. Looking up, we saw 
several horsemen coming over the neighboring hill, 
and in a moment four stately young men rode up 
and dismounted. One of them was Bull- Bear, or 

SoMahto-Tatonka, a compound name which he in- 
herited from his father, the most powerful chief in 
the Ogallallah band. One of his brothers and two 
other young men accompanied him. We shook 
hands with the visitors, and when we had finished 

5 5 our meal — for this is the orthodox manner of enter- 
taining Indians; even the best of them — we handed 
to each a tin cup of coffee and a biscuit, at which 
they ejaculated from the bottom of their throats, 
"How! how!" a monosyllable by which an Indian 

60 contrives to express half the emotions that he is 
susceptible of. Then we lighted the pipe, and passed 
it to them as they squatted on the ground. 
"Where is the village?" 
"There," said Mahto-Tatonka, pointing south- 

65 ward; "it will come in two days." 



THE OREGON TRAIL i55 

"Will they go to the war?" 
"Yes." 

No man is a philanthropist on the prairie. We 
welcomed this news most cordially, and congratu- 

7olated ourselves that Bordeaux's interested efforts to 
divert the Whirlwind from his congenial vocation 
of bloodshed had failed of success, and that no addi- 
tional obstacles would interpose between us and our 
plan of repairing to the rendezvous at La Bonte's 

7 5 camp. 

For that and several succeeding days Mahto- 
Tatonka and his friends remained our guests. They 
devoured the relics of our meals; they filled the 
pipe for us, and also helped us to smoke it. Some- 

80 times they stretched themselves side by side in the 
shade, indulging in raillery and practical jokes, ill- 
becoming the dignity of brave and aspiring warriors, 
such as two of them in reality were. 

Two days dragged away, and on the morning of 

85 the third we hoped confidently to see the Indian 
village. It did not come; so we rode out to look 
for it. In place of the eight hundred Indians we 
expected, we met one solitary savage riding toward 
us over the prairie, who told us that the Indians had 

90 changed their plan, and would not come within three 
days; still he persisted that they were going to the war. 
Taking along with us this messenger of evil tidings, 
we retraced our footsteps to the camp, amusing our- 
selves by the way with execrating Indian inconstancy. 

9 5 When we came in sight of our little white tent under 
the big tree we saw that it no longer stood alone. 
A huge old lodge was erected close by its side, discolored 
by rain and storms, rotten with age, with the uncouth 
figures of horses and men, and outstretched hands that 

100 were painted upon it, wellnigh obliterated. The long 
poles which supported this squalid habitation thrust 



156 THE OREGON TRAIL 

themselves rakishly out from its pointed top, and over 
its entrance were suspended a "medicine-pipe" and 
various other implements of the magic art. While 

105 we were yet at a distance we observed a greatly in- 
creased population, of various colors and dimen- 
sions, swarming around our quiet encampment. 
Mo ran, the trapper, having been absent for a day 
or two, had returned, it seemed, bringing all his 

1 10 family with him. He had taken to himself a wife, 
for whom he had paid the established price of one 
horse. This looks cheap at first sight; but in truth 
the purchase of a squaw is a transaction which no 
man should enter into without mature deliberation, 

1 15 since it involves not only the payment of the first 
price, but the formidable burden of feeding and sup- 
porting a rapacious horde of the bride's relatives, 
who hold themselves entitled to feed upon the indis- 
creet white man. They gather round like leeches 

120 and drain him of all he has. 

Moran, like Reynal, had not allied himself to 
an aristocratic circle. His relatives occupied but 
a contemptible position in Ogallallah society; for 
among these wild democrats of the prairie, as among 

1 25 us, there are virtual distinctions of rank and place; 
though this great advantage they have over us, that 
wealth has no part in determining such distinctions. 
Moran's partner was not the most beautiful of her 
sex, and he had the exceedingly bad taste to array 

1 30 her in an old calico gown, bought from an emigrant 
woman, instead of the neat and graceful tunic of 
whitened deer-skin worn ordinarily by the squaws. 
The moving spirit of the establishment, in more 
senses than one, was a hideous old hag of eighty. 

135 Human imagination never conceived hobgoblin or 
witch more ugly than she. You could count all her 
ribs through the wrinkles of the leathery skin that 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



157 



covered them. Her withered face more resembled 
an old skull than the countenance of a living being, 

1 40 even to the hollow, darkened sockets, at the bottom 
of which glittered her little black eyes. Her arms 
had dwindled away into nothing but whip- cord and 
wire. Her hair, half black, half gray, hung in total 
neglect nearly to the ground, and her sole garment 

1 45 consisted of the remnant of a discarded buffalo-robe 
tied round her waist with a string of hide. Yet the 
old squaw's meagre anatomy was wonderfully strong. 
She pitched the lodge, packed the horses, and did 
the hardest labor of the camp. From morning till 

1 50 night she bustled about the lodge, screaming like a 
screech-owl when anything displeased her. Then 
there was her brother, a "medicine-man," or magician 
equally gaunt and sinewy with herself. His mouth 
spread from ear to ear, and his appetite, as we had 

1 55 full occasion to learn, was ravenous in proportion. 
The other inmates of the lodge were a young bride and 
bridegroom; the latter one of those idle, good-for- 
nothing fellows who infest an Indian village as well 
as more civilized communities. He was fit neither 

1 60 for hunting nor for war; and one might infer as much 
from the stolid, unmeaning expression of his face. 
The happy pair had just entered upon the honey- 
moon. They would stretch a buffalo-robe upon poles, 
so as to protect them from the fierce rays of the sun, 

165 and spreading beneath this rough canopy a luxuriant 
couch of furs, would sit affectionately side by side for 
half the day, though I could not discover that much 
conversation passed between them. Probably they 
had nothing to say; for an Indian's supply of topics 

1 70 for conversation is far from being copious. There 
were half a dozen children, too, playing and whooping 
about the camp, shooting birds with little bows and 
arrows, or making miniature lodges of sticks, as chil- 



iS8 THE OREGON TRAIL 

dren of a different complexion build houses of blocks. 
175 A day passed and Indians began rapidly to come 
in. Parties of two or three or more would ride up 
and silently seat themselves on the grass. The 
fourth day came at last, when about noon horsemen 
suddenly appeared into view on the summit of the 

1 80 neighboring ridge. They descended, and behind 
them followed a wild procession, hurrying in haste 
and disorder down the hill and over the plain below: 
horses, mules, and dogs, heavily burdened Iravaux, 
mounted warriors, squaws walking amid the throng, 

185 and a host of children. For a full half-hour they 
continued to pQur down; and keeping directly to 
the bend of the stream, within a furlong of us, they 
soon assembled there, a dark and confused throng, 
until, as if by magic, a hundred and fifty tall lodges 

190 sprung up. On a sudden the lonely plain was trans- 
formed into the site of a miniature city. Countless 
horses were soon grazing over the meadows around 
us, and the whole prairie was animated by restless 
figures careering on horseback or sedately stalking in 

195 their long white robes. The Whirlwind was come at 
last! One question yet remained to be answered: 
*'Will he go to the war, in order that we, with so 
respectable an escort, may pass over to the somewhat 
perilous rendezvous at La Bonte's camp?" 

200 Still this remained in doubt. Characteristic in- 
decision perplexed their councils. Indians cannot 
act in large bodies. Though their object be of the 
highest importance, they cannot combine to attain 
it by a series of connected efforts. King Philip, Pon- 

205tiac, and Tecumseh, all felt this to their cost. The 
Ogallallah once had a war-chief who could con- 
trol them, but he was dead, and now they were left 
to the sway of their own unsteady impulses. 

This Indian village and its inhabitants will hold a 



THE OREGON TRAIL iS9 



2 10 prominent place in the rest of the narrative, and 
perhaps it may not be amiss to glance for an instant 
at the savage people of which they form a part. 
The Dahcotah (I prefer this national designation to 
the unmeaning French name, Sioux) range over a 
215 vast territory, from the river St. Peter's to the Rocky 
Mountains themselves. They are divided into several 
independent bands, united under no central govern- 
ment and acknowledging no common head. The 
same language, usages, and superstitions form the 
2 2osole bond between them. They do not unite even 
in their wars. The bands of the east fight the Objib- 
was on the Upper Lakes; those of the west make in- 
cessant war upon the Snake Indians in the Rocky 
Mountains. As the whole people is divided into 
22 5 bands, so each band is divided into villages. Each 
village has a chief, who is honored and obeyed only 
so far as his personal qualities may command respect 
and fear. Sometimes he is a mere nominal chief; 
sometimes his authority is little short of absolute, 
230 and his fame and influence reach even beyond his 
own village; so that the whole band to which he 
belongs is ready to acknowledge him as their head. 
This was, a few years since, the case with the Ogallallah. 
Courage, address, and enterprise may raise any warrior 
235 to the highest honor, especially if he be the son of a 
former chief, or a member of a numerous family, to 
support him and avenge his quarrels; but when he 
has reached the dignity of chief, a;nd the old men 
and warriors, by a peculiar ceremony, have formally 
240 installed him, let it not be imagined that he assumes 
any of the outward semblances of rank and honor. 
He knows too well on how frail a tenure he holds 
his station. He must conciliate his uncertain sub- 
jects. Many a man in the village lives better, owns 
245 more squaws and more horses, and goes better clad 



i6o THE OREGON TRAIL 

than he. Like the Teutonic chiefs of old, he in- 
gratiates himself with his young men by making 
them presents, thereby often impoverishing himself. 
Does he fail in gaining their favor, they will set his 

2 50 authority at naught, and may desert him at any 
moment; for the usages of his people have provided 
no sanctions by which he may enforce his authority. 
Very seldom does it happen, at least among thesec 
western bands, that a chief attains to much power, 

255 unless he is the head of a numerous family. Fre- 
quently the village is principally made up of his 
relatives and descendants, and the wandering com- 
munity assumes much of the patriarchal character. 
A people so loosely united, torn, too, with rankling 

2 6ofeuds and jealousies, can have little power or effi- 
ciency. 

The western Dahcotah have no fixed habitations. 
Hunting and fighting, they wander incessantly, 
through summer and winter. Some are following 

265 the herds of buffalo over the waste of prairie; others 
are traversing the Black Hills, thronging, on horseback 
and on foot, through the dark gulfs and sombre gorges, 
beneatli the vast splintering precipices, and emerging 
at last upon the "Parks," those beautiful but most 

2 70 perilous hunting-grounds. The buffalo supplies them 
with almost all the necessaries of life; with habita- 
tions, food, clothing, and fuel; with strings for their 
bows, with thread, cordage, and trail-ropes for their 
horses, with coverings for their saddles, with vessels 

2 75 to hold water, with boats to cross streams, with glue, 
and with the means of purchasing all that they desire 
from the traders. When the buffalo are extinct, they 
too must dwindle away. 

War is the breath of their nostrils. Against most 

280 of the neighboring tribes they cherish a deadly, ran- 
corous hatred, transmitted from father to son, and 



THE OREGON TRAIL i6i 

inflamed by constant aggression and retaliation. 
Many times a year, in every village, the Great Spirit 
is called upon, fasts are made, the war-parade is 

285 celebrated, and the warriors go out by handfuls at 
a time against the enemy. This fierce and evil spirit 
awakens their most eager aspirations and calls forth 
their greatest energies. It is chiefly this that saves 
them from lethargy and utter abasement. Without 

290 its powerful stimulus they would be like the unwar- 
like tribes beyond the mountains, who are scattered 
among the caves and rocks like beasts, living on roots 
and reptiles. These latter have little of humanity 
except the form; but the proud and ambitious Dah- 

2Q5cotah warrior can sometimes boast of heroic virtues. 
It is very seldom that distinction and influence are 
attained among them by any other course than that 
of arms. Their superstition, however, sometimes gives 
great power to those among them who pretend to the 

300 character of magicians. Their wild hearts, too, can 
feel the power of oratory, and yield deference to the 
masters of it. 

But to return. Look into our tent, or enter, if 
you can bear the stifling smoke and the close atmo- 

305 sphere. There, wedged close together, you will see 
a circle of stout warriors passing the pipe around, 
joking, telling stories, and making themselves merry, 
after their fashion. We were also infested by little 
copper- colored naked boys and snake- eyed girls. 

310 They would come up to us muttering certain words, 
which, being interpreted, conveyed the concise invita- 
tion, ''Come and eat." Then we would rise, cursing 
the pertinacity of Dahcotah hospitality, which al- 
lowed scarcely an hour of rest between sun and sun, 

315 and to which we were bound to do honor, unless we 
would offend our entertainers. This necessity was 
particularly burdensome to me, as I was scarcely able 



i62 THE OREGON TRAIL 

to walk from the effects of illness, and was, of course, 
poorly qualified to dispose of twenty meals a day. 

320 Of these sumptuous banquets, I gave a specimen in a 
former chapter, where the tragical fate of the little 
dog was chronicled. So bounteous an entertainment 
looks like an outgushing of good-will; but doubtless 
one-half, at least, of our kind hosts, had they met us 

325 alone and unarmed on the prairie, would have robbed 
us of our horses, and, perchance, have bestowed an 
arrow upon us besides. Trust not an Indian. Let 
your rifle be ever in your hand. Wear next your 
heart the old chivalric motto, ^^ Semper paratus^ 

330 One morning we were summoned to the lodge of 
an old man, in good truth the Nestor of his tribe. 
We found him half-sitting, half-reclining on a pile 
of buffalo-robes; his long hair, jet-black even now, 
though he had seen some eighty winters, hung on 

335 either side of his thin features. Those most con- 
versant with Indians in their homes will scarcely be- 
lieve me when I affirm that there was dignity in his 
countenance and mien. His gaunt but symmetrical 
frame did not more clearly exhibit the wreck of by- 

340 gone strength than did his dark, wasted features, still 
prominent and commanding, bear the stamp of mental 
energies. I recalled, as I saw him, the eloquent meta- 
phor, of the Iroquois sachem: "I am an aged hem- 
lock; the winds of an hundred winters have whistled 

345 through my branches, and I am dead at the top!" 
Opposite the patriarch was his nephew, the young 
aspirant, Mahto-Tatonka; and besides these there 
were one or two women in the lodge. 

The old man's story is peculiar, and singularly 

350 illustrative of a superstitious custom that prevails in 
full force among many of the Indian tribes. He 
was one of a powerful family, renowned for their 
warlike exploits. When a very young man he sub- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 163 

mitted to the singiilar rite to which most of the tribe 
355 subject themselves before entering upon life. He 
painted his face black; then seeking out a cavern 
in a sequestered part of the Black Hills, he lay for 
several days, fasting and praying to the Great Spirit. 
In the dreams and visions produced by his weak- 
36oened and excited state he fancied, like all Indians, 
that he saw supernatural revelations. Again and 
again the form of an antelope appeared before him. 
The antelope is the graceful peace-spirit of the Ogal- 
lallah; but seldom is it that such a gentle visitor 
365 presents itself during the initiatory fasts of their 
young men. The terrible grizzly bear, the divinity 
of war, usually appears to fire them with martial 
ardor and thirst for renown. At length the antelope 
spoke. He told the young dreamer that he was not 
3 70 to follow the path of war; that a life of peace and 
tranquiUity was marked out for him; that thence- 
forward he was to guide the people by his counsels, 
and protect them from the evils of their own feuds 
and dissensions. Others were to gain ^ renown by 
375 fighting the enemy; but greatness of a different kind 
was in store for him. 

The visions beheld during the period of this fast 
usually determine the whole course of the dreamer's 
life, for an Indian is bound by iron superstitions. 
380 From that time Le Borgne, which was the only name 
by which we knew him, abandoned all thoughts of 
war, and devoted himself to the labors of peace. He 
told his vision to the people. They honored his com- 
mission and respected him in his novel capacity. 
385 A far different man was his brother, Mahto-Tatonka, 
who had transmitted his names, his features, and many 
of his characteristic qualities to his son. He was the 
father of Henry Chatillon's squaw, a circumstance 
which proved of some advantage to us, as securing 



i64 THE OREGON TRAIL 

390 to US the friendship of a family perhaps the most 
distinguished and powerful in the whole Ogallallah 
band. Mahto-Tatonka, in his rude way, was a hero. 
No chief could vie with him in warlike renown or in 
power over his people. He had a fearless spirit and 

395 a most impetuous and inflexible resolution. His 
will was law. He was politic and sagacious, and with 
true Indian craft he always befriended the whites, well 
knowing that he might thus reap great advantages 
for himself and his adherents. When he had re- 

400 solved on any course of conduct, he would pay to the 
warriors the empty compliment of calling them to- 
gether to deliberate upon it, and when their debates 
were over, he would quietly state his own opinion, 
which no one ever disputed. The consequences of 

405 thwarting his imperious will w^ere too formidable to be 
encountered. Woe to those who incurred his dis- 
displeasure ! He would strike them or stab them on the 
spot; and this act, which if attempted by any other 
chief, would instantly have cost him his life, the awe 

4 1 o inspired by his name enabled him to repeat again and 
again with impunity. In a community where, from 
immemorial time, no man has acknowledged any law 
but his own will, Mahto-Tatonka, by the force of his 
dauntless resolution, raised himself to power little 

4 1 5 short of despotic. His haughty career came at last 
to an end. He had a host of enemies only waiting 
for their oportunity of revenge, and our old friend 
Smoke, in particular, together with all his kinsmen, 
hated him most cordially. Smoke sat one day in 

420 his lodge, in the midst of his own village, when Mahto- 
Tatonka entered it alone, and approaching the dwell- 
ing of his enemy, called on him in a loud voice to come 
out, if he were a man, and fight. Smoke would not 
move. At this, Mahto-Tatonka proclaimed him a 

425 coward and an old woman, and striding close to the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 165 

entrance of the lodge, stabbed the chief's best horse, 
which was picketed there. Smoke was daunted, 
and even this insult failed to call him forth. Mahto- 
Tatonka moved haughtily away; all made way for 
430 him; but his hour of reckoning was near. 

One hot day, five or six years ago, numerous lodges 
of Smoke's kinsmen were gathered around some of 
the Fur Company's men, who were trading in various 
articles with them, whiskey among the rest. Mahto- 
435Tatonka was also there with a few of his people. As 
he lay in his own lodge, a fray arose between his ad- 
herents and the kinsmen of his enemy. The war- 
whoop was raised, bullets and arrows began to fly, 
and the camp was in confusion. The chief sprang 
440 up, and rushing in a fury from the lodge, shouted to 
the combatants on both sides to cease. Instantly — 
for the attack was preconcerted — came the reports 
of two or three guns, and the twanging of a dozen 
bows, and the savage hero, mortally wounded, pitched 
445 forward headlong to the ground. Rouleau was present, 
and told me the particulars. The tumult became 
general, and was not quelled until several had fallen 
on both sides. When we were in the country the feud 
between the two families was still rankling, and not 
450 likely soon to cease. 

Thus died Mahto-Tatonka, but he left behind him 
a goodly army of descendants to perpetuate his re- 
nown and avenge his fate. Besides daughters, he 
had thirty sons, a number which need not stagger 
455 the credulity of those who are best acquainted with 
Indian usages and practices. We saw many of 
them, all marked by the same dark complexion 
and the same peculiar cast of features. Of these, 
our visitor, young Mahto-Tatonka, was the eldest, 
460 and some reported him as likely to succeed to his 
father's honors. Though he appeared not more 



i66 THE OREGON TRAIL 

than twenty-one years old, he had oftener struck the 
enemy, and stolen more horses and more squaws 
than any young man in the village. We of the civil- 

46sized world are not apt to attach much credit to the 
latter species of exploits; but horse-stealing is well- 
known as an avenue to distinction on the prairies, 
and the other kind of depredation is esteemed equally 
meritorious. Not that the act can confer fame from 

470 its own intrinsic merits. Any one can steal a squaw, 
and if he chooses afterward to make an adequate 
present to her rightful proprietor, the easy husband 
for the most part rests content, his vengeance falls 
asleep, and all danger from that quarter is averted. 

475 Yet this is esteemed but a pitiful and mean-spirited 
transaction. The danger is averted, but the glory 
of the achievement also is lost. Mahto-Tatonka 
proceeded after a more gallant and dashing fashion. 
Out of several dozen squaws whom he had stolen, 

480 he could boast that he had never paid for one, but 
snapping his fingers in the face of the injured husband, 
had defied the extremity of his indignation, and no one 
yet had dared to lay the finger of violence upon him. 
He was following close in the footsteps of his father. 

485 The young men and the young squaws, each in their 
way, admired him. The one would always follow 
liim to war, and he was esteemed to have an unrivalled 
charm in the eyes of the other. Perhaps his impunity 
may excite some wonder. An arrow shot from a 

490 ravine, a stab given in the dark, require no great 
valor, and are especially suited to the Indian genius; 
but Mahto-Tatonka had a strong protection. It was 
not alone his courage and audacious will that enabled 
him to career so dashingly among his compeers. His 

49 5 enemies did not forget that he was one of thirty warlike 
brethren, all growing up to manhood. Should they 
wreak their anger upon him, many keen eyes would 



THE OREGON TRAIL 167 

be ever upon them, many fierce hearts would thirst for 
their blood. The avenger would dog their footsteps 

500 everywhere. To kill Mahto-Tatonka would be no 
better than an act of suicide. 

Though he found such favor in the eyes of the 
fair, he was no dandy. As among us, those of highest 
worth and breeding are most simple in manner and 

505 attire, so our aspiring young friend was indifferent 
to the gaudy trappings and ornaments of his compan- 
ions. He was content to rest his chances of success 
upon his own warlike merits. He never arrayed him- 
self in gaudy blanket and glittering necklaces, but 

5 10 left his statue-like form, Hmbed like an Apollo of 
bronze, to win its way to favor. His voice was singu- 
larly deep and strong. It sounded from his chest 
like the deep notes of an organ. Yet after all, he was 
but an Indian. See him as he lies there in the sun 

51 5 before our tent, kicking his heels in the air and crack- 
ing jokes with his brother. Does he look like a hero ? 
See him now in the hour of his glory, when at sunset 
the whole village empties itself to behold him, for 
to-morrow their favorite young partisan goes out 

520 against the enemy. His superb head-dress is adorned 
with a crest of the war-eagle's feathers, rising in a 
waving ridge above his brow, and sweeping far behind 
him. His round white shield hangs at his breast, 
with feathers radiating from the centre like a star. 

52 5 His quiver is at his back; his tall lance in his hand, 
the iron point flashing against the declining sun, while 
the long scalp-locks of his enemies flutter from the 
shaft. Thus, gorgeous as a champion in his panoply, 
he rides round and round within the great circle of 
.30 lodges, balancing with a graceful buoyancy to the 
free movements of his war-horse, while with a sedate 
brow he sings his song to the Great Spirit. Young 
rival warriors look askance at him ; vermilion-cheeked 



i68 THE OREGON TRAIL 

girls gaze in admiration; boys whoop and scream 

5 35 in a thrill of delight, and old women yell forth his 
name and proclaim his praises from lodge to lodge. 

Mahto-Tatonka, to come back to him, was the 
best of all our Indian friends. Hour after hour and 
day after day, when swarms of savages of every 

540 age, sex, and degree beset our camp, he would lie 
in our tent, his lynx-eye ever open to guard our property 
from pillage. 

The Whirlwind invited us one day to his lodge. 
The feast was finished and the pipe began to circu- 

545 late. It was a remarkably large and fine one, and 
I expressed my admiration of its form and dimen- 
sions. 

''If the Meneaska likes the pipe," asked the Whirl- 
wind, "why does he not keep it?" 

550 Such a pipe among the Ogallallah is valued at the 
price of a horse. A princely gift, thinks the reader, 
and worthy of a chieftain and a warrior. The Whirl- 
wind's generosity rose to no such pitch. He gave 
me the pipe, confidently expecting that I in return 

555 should make him a present of equal or superior value. 
This is the implied condition of every gift among the 
Indians as among the Orientals, and should it not be 
complied with, the present is usually reclaimed by the 
giver. So I arranged upon a gaudy calico handker- 

5 60 chief an assortment of vermilion, tobacco, knives, and 
gunpowder, and, summoning the chief to camp, as- 
sured him of my friendship, and begged his acceptance 
of a slight token of it. Ejaculating ''how! how!" 
he folded up the offerings and withdrew to his lodge. 

565 Several days passed, and we and the Indians remained 
encamped side by side. They could not decide whether 
or not to go to the war. Toward evening scores of 
them would surround our tent, a picturesque group. 
Late one afternoon a party of them mounted on horse- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 169 

5 70 back came suddenly in sight from behind some clumps 
of bushes that lined the bank of the stream, leading 
with them a mule, on whose back was a wretched negro, 
only sustained in his seat by the high pommel and 
cantle of the Indian saddle. His cheeks were withered 

575 and shrunken in the hollow of his jaws; his eyes 
were unnaturally dilated, and his lips seemed shrivelled 
and drawn back from his teeth like those of a corpse. 
When they brought him up before our tent, and 
lifted him from the saddle, he could not walk or stand, 

580 but he crawled a short distance, and, with a look 
of utter misery, sat down on the grass. All the chil- 
dren and women came pouring out of the lodges around 
us, and with screams and cries made a close circle 
about him, while he sat supporting himself with his 

585 hands, and looking from side to side with a vacant 
stare. The wretch was starving to death! For thirty- 
three days he had wandered alone on the prairie, 
without weapon of any kind; without shoes, mocca- 
sins, or any other clothing than an old jacket and 

590 pantaloons; without intelligence and skill to guide 
his course, or any knowledge of the productions of 
the prairie. All this time he had subsisted on crickets 
and lizards, wild onions, and three eggs which he 
found in the nest of a prairie-dove. He had not seen 

595 a human being. Utterly bewildered in the boundless, 
hopeless desert that stretched around him, offering to 
his inexperienced eye no mark by which to direct his 
course, he had walked on in despair, till he could 
walk no longer, and then crawled on his knees, until 

600 the bone was laid bare. He chose the night for his 
travelling, laying down by day to sleep in the glar- 
ing sun, always dreaming, as he said, of the broth 
and corn-cake he used to eat under his old master's 
shed in Missouri. Every man in the camp, both 

60 5 white and red, was astonished at his wonderful es- 



170 THE OREGON TRAIL 

cape, not only from starvation, but from the grizzly 
bears which abound in that neighborhood, and the 
wolves which howled around him every night. 

Reynal recognized him the moment the Indians 

6io brought him in. He had run away from his master 
about a year before and joined the party of M. Richard, 
who was then leaving the frontier for the mountains. 
He had lived with Richard ever since, until in the end 
of May, he with Reynal and several other men, went 

6 1 5 out in search of some stray horses, when he got separated 
from the rest in a storm, and had never been heard of 
up to this time. Knowing his inexperience and help- 
lessness, no one dreamed that he could still be living. 
The Indians had found him lying exhausted on the 

620 ground. 

As he sat there with the Indians gazing silently on 
him, his haggard face and glazed eye were disgusting 
to look upon. Delorier made him a bowl of gruel, 
but he suffered it to remain untasted before him. 

625 At length he languidly raised the spoon to his lips; 
again he did so, and again; and then his appetite 
seemed suddenly inflamed into madness, for he seized 
the bowl, swallowed all its contents in a few seconds, 
and eagerly demanded meat. This we refused, telling 

630 him to wait until morning; but he begged so eagerly 
that we gave him a small piece, which he devoured, 
tearing it like a dog. He said he must have more. 
We told him that his life was in danger if he ate so 
immoderately at first. He assented, and said he knew 

635 he was a fool to do so, but he must have meat. This 
we absolutely refused, to the great indignation of the 
senseless squaws, who, when we were not watching 
him, would slyly bring dried meat and pommes blanches, 
and place them on the ground by his side. Still this 

640 was not enough for him. When it grew dark he con- 
trived to creep away between the legs of the horses 



THE OREGON TRAIL 171 

and crawl over to the Indian village, about a furlong 
down the stream. Here he fed to his heart's con- 
tent, and was brought back again in the morning, 

645 when Jean Gras, the trapper, put him on horseback 
and carried him to the fort. He managed to sur- 
vive the effects of his insane greediness, and though 
slightly deranged when he left this part of the 
country, he was otherwise in tolerable health, and 

650 expressed his firm conviction that nothing could 
ever kill him. 

When the sun was yet an hour high, it was a gay 
scene in the village. The warriors stalked sedately 
among the lodges, or along the margin of the streams, 

655 or walked out to visit the bands of horses that were 
feeding over the prairie. Half the village population 
deserted the close and heated lodges and betook them- 
selves to the water; and here you might see boys 
and girls and young squaws splashing, swimming, 

660 and diving beneath the afternoon sun with merry 
laughter and screaming. But when the sun, was just 
resting above the broken peaks, and the purple moun- 
tains threw their prolonged shadows for miles over 
the prairie; when our grim old tree, lighted by the 

665 horizontal rays, assumed an aspect of peaceful repose, 
such as one loves after scenes of tumult and excite- 
ment; and when the whole landscape of swelling 
plains and scattered groves was softened into a tranquil 
beauty, then our encampment presented a striking 

670 spectacle. Could Salvator Rosa have transferred it 
to his canvas, it would have added new renown to his 
pencil. Savage figures surrounded our tent, with 
quivers at their backs, and guns, lances, or tomahawks 
in their hands. Some sat on horseback, motionless as 

6 7 5 equestrian statues, their arms crossed on their breasts, 
their eyes fixed in a steady, unwavering gaze upon us. 
Some stood erect, wrapped from head to foot in their 



172 THE OREGON TRAIL 

long white robes of buffalo-hide. Some sat together 
on the grass, holding their shaggy horses by a rope, 

680 with their broad dark busts exposed to view as they 
suffered their robes to fall from their shoulders. Others 
again stood carelessly among the throng, with nothing 
to conceal the matchless symmetry of their forms, 
and I do not exaggerate when I say that only on the 

685 prairie and in the Vatican have I seen such faultless 
models of the human figure. See that warrior stand- 
ing by the tree, towering six feet and a half in stature. 
Your eyes may trace the whole of his graceful and 
majestic height, and discover no defect or blemish. 

690 With his free and noble attitude, with the bow in his 
hand, and the quiver at his back, he might seem, but 
for his face, the Pythian Apollo himself. Such a figure 
rose before the imagination of West, when on first 
seeing the Belvidere in the Vatican, he exclaimed, 

69s ''By God, a Mohawk!" 

When the sky darkened and the stars began to 
appear; when the prairie was involved in gloom, 
and the horses were driven in and secured around 
the camp, the crowd began to melt away. Fires 

700 gleamed around, duskily revealing the rough trappers 
and the graceful Indians. One of the families near 
us would always be gathered about a bright blaze, 
that displayed the shadowy dimensions of their lodge 
and sent its lights far up among the masses of foliage 

705 above, gilding the dead and ragged branches. Withered 
witch-like hags flitted around the blaze; and here for 
hour after hour sat a circle of children and young 
girls, laughing and talking, their round merry faces 
glowing in the ruddy light. We could hear the 

7 1 o monotonous notes of the drum from the Indian village, 
with the chant of the war-song, deadened in the dis- 
tance, and the long chorus of quavering yells, where 
the war-dance was going on in the largest lodge. For 



THE OREGON TRAIL 173 

several nights, too, we could hear wild and mournful 

7 1 5 cries, rising and dying away like the melancholy voice 
of a wolf. They came from the sisters and female 
relatives of Mahto-Tatonka, who were gashing their 
limbs with knives and bewailing the death of Henry 
Chatillon's squaw. The hour would grow late be- 

7 20 fore all retired to rest in the camp. Then the embers 
of the fires would be glowing dimly, the men would be 
stretched in their blankets on the ground, and nothing 
could be heard but the restless motions of the crowded 
horses. 

725 I recall these scenes with a mixed feeling of pleas- 
ure and pain. At this time I was so reduced by ill- 
ness that I could seldom walk without reeling like a 
drunken man, and when I rose from my seat upon 
the ground the landscape suddenly grew dim before 

730 my eyes, the trees and lodges seemed to sway to and 
fro, and the prairie to rise and fall like the swells of 
the ocean. Such a state of things is by no means 
enviable anywhere. In a country where a man's 
life may at any moment depend on the strength of 

735 his arm, or it may be on the activity of his legs, it 
is more particularly inconvenient. Medical assist- 
ance, of course, there was none; neither had I the 
means of pursuing a system of diet; and sleeping 
on damp ground, with an occasional drenching from 

740 a shower, would hardly be recommended as bene- 
ficial. I sometimes suffered the extremity of lan- 
guor and exhaustion, and though at the time I felt 
no apprehensions of the final result, I have since 
learned that my situation was a critical one. 

745 Besides other formidable inconveniences, I owe it 
in a great measure to the remote effects of that un- 
lucky disorder that from deficient eyesight I am 
compelled to employ the pen of another in taking down 
this narrative from my lips; and I have learned 



174 THE OREGON TRAIL 

750 very effectually that a violent attack of dysentery on 
the prairie is a thing too serious for a joke. I tried 
repose and a very sparing diet. For a long time, 
with exemplary patience, I lounged about the camp, 
or, at the utmost, staggered over to the Indian village, 

755 and walked faint and dizzy among the lodges. It 
would not do; and I bethought me of starvation. 
During five days I sustained life on one small biscuit 
a day. At the end of that time I was weaker than be- 
fore, but the disorder seemed shaken in its stronghold, 

760 and very gradually I began to resume a less rigid diet. 
No sooner had I done so than the same detested symp- 
toms revisited me; my old enemy resumed his per- 
tinacious assaults, yet not with his former violence or 
constancy, and though before I regained any fair 

765 portion of my ordinary strength weeks had elapsed, 
and months passed before the disorder left me, yet 
thanks to old habits of activity, and a merciful Provi- 
dence, I was able to sustain myself against it. 

I used to lie languid and dreamy before our tent, 

7 70 and muse on the past and the future, and when most 
overcome with lassitude, my eyes turned always 
toward the distant Black Hills. There is a spirit of 
energy and vigor in mountains, and they impart it to 
all who approach their, presence. At that time I did 

7 75 not know how many dark superstitions and gloomy 
legends are associated with those mountains in the 
minds of the Indians, but I felt an eager desire to pene- 
trate their hidden recesses, to explore the awful 
chasms and precipices, the black torrents, the silent 

780 forests, that I fancied were concealed there. 



CHAPTER XII 

ILL LUCK 
"One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, 
When they reach'd the hall-door, and the charger stood near; 
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, 
So light to the saddle before her he sprung! 
5 'She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; 

They'll have fleet steeds that follow,' quoth young Lochinyar. " 

— Marmion 

A Canadian came from Fort Laramie and brought 
a curious piece of intelligence. A trapper, fresh 
from the mountains, had become enamored of a 

1 o Missouri damsel belonging to a family who with 

other emigrants had been for some days encamped 
in the neighborhood of the fort. If bravery be the 
most potent charm to win the favor of the fair, then 
no wooer could be more irresistible than a Rocky 

1 5 Mountain trapper. In the present instance the suit 
was not urged in vain. The lovers concerted a 
scheme, which they proceeded to carry into effect 
with all possible dispatch. The emigrant party left 
the fort, and on the next succeeding night but one en- 

20 camped as usual, and placed a guard. A little after 
midnight the enamored trapper drew near, mounted 
on a strong horse, and leading another by the bridle. 
Fastening both animals to a tree, he stealthily moved 
toward the wagons, as if he were approaching a band 

2 5 of buffalo. Eluding the vigilance of the guard, who 

were probably half-asleep, he met his mistress by 
appointment at the outskirts of the camp, mounted 
her on his spare horse, and made off with her through 
the darkness. The sequel of the adventure did 
30 not reach our ears, and we never learned how the 

175 



176 THE OREGON TRAIL 

imprudent fair one liked an Indian lodge for a dwelling 
and a reckless trapper for a bridegroom. 

At length the Whirlwind and his warriors deter- 
mined to move. They had resolved after all their 

3 5 preparations not to go to the rendezvous at La Bonte's 

camp, but to pass through the Black Hills and spend 
a few weeks in hunting the buffalo on the other side, 
until they had killed enough to furnish them with a 
stock of provisions and with hides to make their lodges 
40 for the next season. This done, they were to send 
out a small independent war-party against the enemy. 
Their final determination left us in some embarrass- 
ment. Should we go to La Bonte's camp, it was not 
impossible that the other villages should prove as 

4 5 vacillating and indecisive as the Whirlwind's, and that 

no assembly whatever would take pace. Our old com- 
panion Reynal had conceived a liking for us, or rather 
for our biscuit and coffee, and for the occasional small 
presents which we made him. He was very anxious 

50 that we should go with the village which he himself 
intended to accompany. He declared he was certain 
that no Indians would meet at the rendezvous, and 
said, moreover, that it would be easy to convey our 
cart and baggage through the Black Hills. In saying 

55 this, he told, as usual, an egregious falsehood. Neither 
he nor any white man with us had ever seen the difficult 
and obscure defiles through which the Indians in- 
tended to make their way. I passed them afterward, 
and had much ado to force my distressed horse along 

60 the narrow ravines and through chasms where day- 
light could scarcely penetrate. Our cart might as 
easily have been conveyed over the summit of Pike's 
Peak. Anticipating the difficulties and uncertainties 
of an attempt to visit the rendezvous, we recalled the 

65 old proverb about ''A bird in the hand," and decided 
to follow the village. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



177 



Both camps, the Indians' and our own, broke up 
on the morning of the first of July. I was so weak 
that the aid of a potent auxihary, a spoonful of whiskey, 

70 swallowed at short intervals, alone enabled me to 
sit my hardy little mare Pauline through the short 
journey of that day. For half a mile before us and 
half a mile behind the prairie was covered far and wide 
with the moving throng of savages. The barren, 

75 broken plain stretched away to the right and left, and 
far in front rose the gloomy precipitous ridge of the 
Black Hills. We pushed forward to the head of the 
scattered column, passing the burdened travaux, the 
heavily laden pack-horses, the gaunt old women on 

80 foot, the gay young squaws on horseback, the restless 
children running among the crowd, old men, striding 
along in their white buffalo-robes, and groups of young 
warriors mounted on their best horses. Henry Chatil- 
lon, looking backward over the distant prairie, exclaimed 

85 suddenly that a horseman was approaching, and in 
truth we could just discern a small black speck slowly 
moving over the face of a distant swell, like a fly 
creeping on a wall. It rapidly grew larger as it ap- 
proached. 

90 "White man, I b'heve," said Henry; "look how 
he ride! Indian never ride that way. Yes; he got 
rifle on the saddle before him." 

The horseman disappeared in a hollow of the 
prairie, but we soon saw him again, and as he came 

9 5 riding at a gallop, toward us through the crowd of 
Indians, his long hair streaming in the wind behind 
him, we recognized the ruddy face and old buckskin 
frock of Jean Gras the trapper. He w^as just arrived 
from Fort Laramie, where he had been on a visit, 
100 and said he had a message for us. A trader named 
Bisonette, one of Henry's friends, was lately come 
from the settlements, and intended to go with a 



178 THE OREGON TRAIL 

party of men to La Bonte's camp, where, as Jean 
Gras assured us, ten or twelve villages of Indians 

105 would certainly assemble. Bissonette desired that 
we would cross over and meet him there, and prom- 
ised that his men should protect our horses and bag- 
gage while we went among the Indians. Shaw and I 
stopped our horses and held a council, and in an ^il 

1 10 hour resolved to go. 

For the rest of that day's journey our course and 
that of the Indians was the same. In less than an 
hour we came to where the high barren prairie ter- 
minated, sinking down abruptly in steep descent; 

1 1 5 and standing on these heights, we saw below us, a 
great level meadow. Laramie Creek bounded it on 
the left, sweeping along in the shadow of the declivities, 
and passing with its shallow and rapid current just 
below us. We sat on horseback, waiting and looking 

1 20 on, while the whole savage array went pouring past us, 
hurrying down the descent, and spreading themselves 
over the meadow below. In a few moments the 
plain was swarming with the moving multitude, some 
just visible, Hke specks in the distance, others still 

125 passing on, pressing down, and fording the stream 
with bustle and confusion. On the edge of the heights 
sat half a dozen of the elder warriors, gravely smoking 
and looking down with unmoved faces on the wild 
and striking spectacle. 

130 Up went the lodges in a circle on the margin of the 
stream. For the sake of quiet we pitched our tent 
among some trees at half a mile's distance. In the 
afternoon we were in the village. The day was a 
glorious one, and the whole camp seemed lively and 

135 animated in sympathy. Groups of children and 
young girls were laughing gayly on the outside of the 
lodges. The shields, the lances, and the bows were 
removed from the tall tripods on which they usually 



THE OREGON TRAIL 179 

hung before the dwellings of their owners. The 

1 40 warriors were mounting their horses, and one by one 
riding away over the prairie toward the neighboring 
hills. 

Shaw and I sat on the grass near the lodge of Reynal. 
An old woman, with true Indian hospitality, brought 

145 a bowl of boiled venison and placed it before us. We 
amused ourselves with watching half a dozen young 
squaws who were playing together and chasing each 
other in and out of one of the lodges. Suddenly the 
wild yell of the war-whoop came pealing from the 

1 50 hills. A crowd of horsemen appeared, rushing down 
their sides, and riding at full speed toward the village, 
each warrior's long hair flying behind him in the wind 
like a ship's streamer. As they approached, the con- 
fused throng assumed a regular order, and entering 

1 5 5 two by two, they circled round the area at full gallop, 
each warrior singing his war-song as he rode. Some 
of their dresses were splendid. They wore superb 
crests of feathers, and close tunics of antelope-skins, 
fringed with the scalp-locks of their enemies; their 

160 shields too were often fluttering with the war-eagle's 
feathers. All had bows and arrows at their backs; 
some carried long lances, and a few were armed with 
guns. The White Shield, their partisan, rode in gor- 
geous attire at their head, mounted on a black-and- 

165 white horse. Mahto-Tatonka and his brothers took 
no part in this parade, for they were in mourning for 
their sister, and were all sitting in their lodges, their 
bodies bedaubed from head to foot with white clay, 
and a lock of hair cut from each of their foreheads. 

170 The warriors circled three times round the village; 
and as each distinguished champion passed, the old 
women would scream out his name, in honor of his 
bravery, and to incite the emulation of the younger 
warriors. Little urchins, not two years old, followed 



i8o THE OREGON TRAIL 

1 75 the war-like pageant with ghttering eyes, and looked 
with eager wonder and admiration at those whose 
honors were proclaimed by the public voice of the 
village. Thus early is the lesson of war instilled 
into the mind of an Indian, and such are the stimu- 

iSolants which excite his thirst for martial renown. 

The procession rode out of the village as it had 
entered it, and in half an hour all the warriors had 
returned again, dropping quietly in, singly or in 
parties of two or three. 

185 As the sun rose next morning we looked across 
the meadow, and could see the lodges levelled and 
the Indians gathering together in preparation to 
leave the camp. Their course lay to the westward. 
We turned toward the north with our three men, the 

1 90 four trappers following us, with the Indian family 
of Mo ran. We travelled until night. I suffered 
not a little from pain and weakness. We encamped 
among some trees by the side of a little brook, and 
here during the whole of the next day we lay wait- 

195 ing for Bisonette, but no Bisonette appeared. Here 
also two of our trapper friends left us, and set out 
for the Rocky Mountains. On the second morning, 
despairing of Bisonette's arrival, we resumed our 
journey, traversing a forlorn and dreary monotony 

200 of sun-scorched plains, where no living thing ap- 
peared save here and there an antelope flying before 
us like the wind. When noon came we saw an un- 
wonted and most welcome sight; a rich and luxuri- 
ant growth of trees, marking the course of a little 

205 stream called Horse-Shoe Creek. We turned gladly 
toward it. There were lofty and spreading trees, 
standing widely asunder, and supporting a thick 
canopy of leaves, above a surface of rich, tall grass. 
The stream ran swiftly, as clear as crystal, through 

2 10 the bosom of the wood, sparkling over its bed of 



THE OREGON. TRAIL i8i 

white sand, and darkening again as it entered a deep 
cavern of leaves and boughs. I was thoroughly ex- 
hausted, and flung myself on the ground, scarcely 
able to move. All that afternoon I lay in the shade 

2 1 5 by the side of the stream, and those bright woods and 
sparkling waters are associated in my mind with 
recollections of lassitude and utter prostration. When 
night came I sat down by the fire, longing with an in- 
tensity of which at this moment I can hardly conceive, 

2 20 for some powerful stimulant. 

In the morning, as glorious a sun rose upon us as 
ever animated that desolate wilderness. We ad- 
vanced, and soon were surrounded by tall bare hills, 
overspread from top to bottom with prickly pears and 

225 other cacti, that seemed like clinging reptiles. A 
plain, flat and hard, and with scarcely the vestige of 
grass lay before us, and a line of tall misshapen trees 
bounded the onward view. There was no sight or 
sound of man or beast, or any living thing, although 

2 30 behind those trees was the long-looked -for place of 
rendezvous, where we fondly hoped to have found the 
Indians congregated by thousands. We looked and 
listened anxiously. We pushed forward with our best 
speed, and forced our horses through the trees. There 

235 were copses of some extent beyond, with a scanty 
stream creeping through their midst ; and as we pressed 
through the yielding branches, deer sprang up to the 
right and left. At length we caught a glimpse of the 
prairie beyond. Soon we emerged upon it, and saw, 

2 40 not a plain covered with encampments and swarming 
with life, but a vast unbroken desert, stretching away 
before us league uj on league, without a bush or a tree 
or anything that had life. We drew rein and gave 
to the winds our sentiments concerning the whole 

245 aboriginal race of America. Our journey was in vain, 
and much worse than in vain. For mvself, I was 



i82 THE OREGON TRAIL 

vexed and disappointed beyond measure; as I well 
knew that a slight aggravation of my disorder would 
render this false step irrevocable, and make it quite 

250 impossible to accomplish effectually the design which 
had led me an arduous journey of between three and 
four thousand miles. To fortify myself as well as I 
could against such a contingency, I resolved that I 
would not under any circumstances attempt to leave 

255 the country until my object was completely gained. 
And where were the Indians? They were as- 
sembled in great numbers at a spot about twenty 
miles distant, and there at that very moment they 
were engaged in their warlike ceremonies. The 

2 60 scarcity of buffalo in the vicinity of La Bonte's camp, 
which would render their supply of provisions scanty 
and precarious, had probably prevented them from 
assembling there; but of all this we knew nothing 
until some weeks after. 

265 Shaw lashed his horse and galloped forward. I, 
though much more vexed than he, was not strong 
enough to adopt this convenient vent to my feelings; 
so I followed at a quiet pace, but in no quiet mood. 
We rode up to a solitary old tree, which seemed the 

2 70 only place fit for an encampment. Half its branches 
were dead, and the rest were so scantily furnished 
with leaves that they cast but a meagre and wretched 
shade, and the old twisted trunk alone furnished suffi- 
cient protection from the sun. We threw down our 

275 saddles in the strip of shadow that it cast, and sat down 
upon them. In silent indignation we remained 
smoking for an hour or more, shifting our saddles 
with the shifting shadow, for the sun was intolerably 
hot, 



CHAPTER XIII 

HUNTING INDIANS 
"I tread, 
With fainting steps and slow, 
Where wilds immeasurably spread 

Seem lengthening as I go." — Goldsmith 

5 At last we had reached La Bonte's camp, toward 
which our eyes had turned so long. Of all weary 
hours, those that passed between noon and sunset 
of the day when we arrived there may bear away 
the palm of exquisite discomfort. I lay under the 

TO tree reflecting on what course to pursue, watching 
the shadows which seemed never to move, and the 
sun which remained fixed in the sky, and hoping 
every moment to see the men and horses of Bison- 
ette emerging from the woods. Shaw and Henry 

1 5 had ridden out on a scouting expedition, and did 
not return until the sun was setting. There was 
nothing very cheering in their faces nor in the news 
they brought. 

"We have been ten miles from here," said Shaw. 

20 "We climbed the highest butte we could find, and 
could not see a bufl^alo or Indian; nothing but prairie 
for twenty miles around us." Henry's horse was quite 
disabled by clambering up and down the sides of 
ravines, and Shaw's was severely fatigued. 

25 After supper that evening, as we sat around the 
fire, I proposed to Shaw to wait one day longer, in 
hopes of Bisonette's arrival, and if he should not 
come, to send Delorier with the cart and baggage 
back to Fort Laramie, while we ourselves followed 

30 the Whirlwind's village, and attempted to overtake 

183 



i84 THE OREGON TRAIL 

it as it passed the mountains. Shaw, not having 
the same motive for hunting Indians that I had, was 
averse to the plan; I therefore resolved to go alone. 
This design I adopted very unwillingly, for I knew 

3 5 that in the present state of my health the attempt 

would be extremely unpleasant, and, as I considered, 
hazardous. I hoped that Bisonette would appear in 
the course of the following day, and bring us some 
information by which to direct our course, and en- 
40 able me to accomplish my purpose by means less 
objectionable. 

The rifle of Henry Chatillon was necessary for 
the subsistence of the party in my absence; so I 
called Raymond, and ordered him to prepare to set 

4 5 out with me. Raymond rolled his eyes vacantly 

about, but at length, having succeeded in grappling 
with the idea, he withdrew to his bed under the cart. 
He was a heavy-moulded fellow, with a broad face, 
exactly like an owl's, expressing the most impenetrable 
50 stupidity and entire self-confidence. As for his good 
qualities, he had a sort of stubborn fidelity, an in- 
sensibility to danger, and a kind of instinct or sagacity, 
which sometimes led him right, where better heads 
than his were at a loss. Besides this, he knew very 

5 5 well how to handle a rifle and picket a horse. 

Through the following day the sun glared down 
upon us with a pitiless, penetrating heat. The dis- 
tant blue prairie seemed quivering under it. The 
lodge of our Indian associate was baking in the rays, 

60 and our rifles, as they leaned against the tree, were 
too hot for the touch. There was a dead silence 
through our camp and all around it, unbroken except 
by the hum of gnats and mosquitoes. The men, resting 
their foreheads on their arms, were sleeping under the 

65 cart. The Indians kept close within their lodge, ex- 
cept the newly married pair, who were seated together 



THE OREGON TRAIL 185 

under an awning of buffalo-robes, and the old conjurer, 
who, with his hard, emaciated face and gaunt ribs, 
was perched aloft like a turkey-buzzard among the 

70 dead branches of an old tree, constantly on the lookout 
for enemies. He would have made a capital shot. A 
rifle bullet, skilfully planted, would have brought 
him tumbling to the ground. Surely, I thought, there 
could be no more harm in shooting such a hideous 

75 old villain, to see how ugly he would look when he was 
dead, than in shooting the detestable vulture which 
he resembled. We dined, and then Shaw saddled his 
horse. 

''I will ride back," said he, "to Horse-Shoe Creek, 

80 and see if Bisonette is there." 

"I would go with you," I answered, "but I must 
reserve all the strength I have." 

The afternoon dragged away at last. I occupied 
myself in cleaning my rifle and pistols, and making 

85 other preparations for the journey. After supper, 
Henry Chatillon and I lay by the fire, discussing the 
properties of that admirable weapon, the rifle, in the 
use of which he could fairly out-rival Leatherstocking 
himself. 

90 It was late before I wrapped myself in my blanket 
and lay down for the night, with my head on my 
saddle. Shaw had not returned, but this gave us 
no uneasiness, for we presumed that he had faflen 
in with Bisonette, and was spending the night with 

9 5 him. For a day or two past I had gained in strength 
and health, but about midnight an attack of pain 
awoke me, and for some hours I felt no inclination to 
sleep. The moon was quivering on the broad breast 
of the Platte; nothing could be heard except those low 
100 inexplicable sounds, like whisperings and footsteps, 
which no one who has spent the night alone amid de- 
serts and forests will be at a loss to understand. As I 



i86 THE OREGON TRAIL 

was falling asleep, a familiar voice, shouting from the 
distance, awoke me again. A rapid step approached 
105 the camp, and Shaw on foot, with his gun in his hand, 
hastily entered. 

''Where's your horse?" said I, raising myself on 
my elbow. 

"Lost!" said Shaw. "Where's Delorier?" 
no "There," I replied, pointing to a confused mass 
of blankets and buffalo-robes. 

Shaw touched them with the butt of his gun, and 
up sprang our faithful Canadian. 

"Come, Delorier; stir up the fire, and get me 
1 15 something to eat." 

"Where's Bisonette?" asked I. 
"The Lord knows; there's nobody at Horse- 
Shoe Creek." 

Shaw had gone back to the spot where we had 
1 20 encamped two days before, and finding nothing 
there but the ashes of our fires, he had tied his horse 
to the tree while he bathed in the stream. Something 
startled his horse, who broke loose, and for two hours 
Shaw tried in vain to catch him. Sunset approached, 
125 and it was twelve miles to camp. So he abandoned 
the attempt, and set out on foot to join us. The greater 
part of his perilous and solitaiy work was performed 
in darkness. His moccasins were worn to tatters 
and his feet severely lacerated. He sat down to eat, 
1 30 however, with the usual equanimity of his temper not 
at all disturbed by his misfortune, and my last recollec- 
tion before falling asleep was of Shaw, seated cross- 
legged before the fire, smoking his pipe. The horse, 
I may as well mention here, was found the next morn- 
135 ing by Henry Chatillon. 

When I awoke again there was a fresh damp smell 
in the air, a gray twilight involved the prairie, and 
above its eastern verge was a streak of cold red sky. 



ISO 



THE OREGON TRAIL 187 

I called to the men, and in a moment a fire was blaz- 
i4oing brightly in the dim morning hght, and breakfast 
was getting ready. We sat down together on the 
grass, to the last civilized meal which Raymond and 
I were destined to enjoy for some time. 
^'Now bring in the horses." 
145 My Httle mare Pauline was soon standmg by the 
fire. She was a fleet, hardy, and ' gentle animal, 
christened after Paul Dorion, from whom I had pro- 
cured her in exchange for Pontiac. She did not 
look as if equipped for a morning pleasure ride. 
In front of the black, high-bowed mountain-saddle, 
holsters, with heavy pistols, were fastened. A pair 
of saddle-bags, a blanket tightly rolled, a small parcel 
of Indian presents tied up in a buffalo-skm, a leather 
bag of flour, and a smaller one of tea were all secured 
1 55 behind, and a long trail-rope was wound round her 
neck. Raymond had a strong black mule, equipped 
in a similar manner. We crammed our powder-horns 
to the throat, and mounted. ^ ^ r , c 

''I will meet you at Fort Laramie on the tirst ot 
1 60 August," said I to Shaw. 

^^That is," repKed he, ''if we don't meet before 
that. I thi'nk I shall follow after you in a day or 

'"^This, in fact, he attempted, and he would have 
165 succeeded if he had not encountered obstacles against 
which his resolute spirit was of no avail, i wo days 
after I left him he sent Delorier to the fort with the 
cart and baggage, and set out for the mountams with 
Henry Chatillon; but a tremendous thunder-storm 
X 70 had deluged the prairie, and nearly obliterated not 
only our trail but that of the Indians themselves. 
They followed along the base of the mountains at a 
loss in which direction to go. They encamped there, 
and in the morning Shaw found himself poisoned by 



i88 THE OREGON TRAIL 

1 75 ivy in such a manner that it was impossible for him 
to travel. So they turned back reluctantly toward 
Fort Laramie. Shaw's limbs were swollen to double 
their usual size, and he rode in great pain. They en- 
camped again within twenty miles of the fort, and 

1 80 reached it early on the following morning. Shaw 
lay seriously ill for a week, and remained at the fort 
till I rejoined him some time after. 

To return to my own story. We shook hands 
with our friends, rode out upon the prairie, and 

185 clambering the sandy hollows that were channelled 
in the sides of the hills, gained the high plains above. 
If a curse had been pronounced upon the land it 
could not have worn an aspect of more dreary and for- 
lorn barrenness. There were abrupt broken hills, 

1 90 deep hollows, and wide plains; but all alike glared 
with an insupportable whiteness under the burning 
sun. The country, as if parched by the heat, had 
cracked into innumerable fissures and ravines, that 
not a little impeded our progress. Their steep sides 

1 9 5 were white and raw, and along the bottom we several 
times discovered the broad tracks of the terrific grizzly 
bear, nowhere more abundant than in this region. 
The ridges of the hills were hard as rock, and strewn 
with pebbles of flint and coarse red jasper; looking 

200 from them, there was nothing to relieve the desert 
uniformity of the prospect, save here and there a pine 
tree clinging at the edge of a ravine, and stretching over 
its rough, shaggy arms. Under the scorching heat, 
these melancholy trees diffused their peculiar resinous 

205 odor through the sultry air. There was something 
in it, as I approached them, that recalled old asso- 
ciations; the pine-clad mountains of New England, 
traversed in days of health and buoyancy, rose like a 
reality before my fancy. In passing that arid waste 

2 10 1 v^as goaded with a morbid thirst produced by my 



THE OREGON TRAIL 189 

disorder, and I thought with a longing desire on the 
crystal treasure poured in such wasteful profusion 
from our thousand hills. Shutting my eyes, I more 
than half-believed that I heard the deep-plunging 

2 15 and gurgling of waters in the bowels of the shaded 
rocks. I could see their dark icy glittering far down 
amid the crevices, and the cold drops trickling from 
the long green mosses. 

When noon came, w^e found a little stream with a 

2 20 few trees and bushes; and here we. rested for an 
hour. Then we travelled on, guided by the sun, 
until, just before sunset, we reached another stream, 
called Bitter Cotton- wood Creek. A thick growth 
of bushes and old storm-beaten trees grew at inter- 

2 25vals along its bank. Near the foot of one of the 
trees we flung down our saddles, and hobbling our 
horses, turned them loose to feed. The little stream 
was clear and swift, and ran musically over its white 
sands. Small water-birds were splashing in the 

2 30 shallows, and filling the air with their cries and flut- 
terings. The sun was just sinking among gold and 
crimson clouds behind Mount Laramie. I well 
remember how I lay upon a log by the margin of the 
water and watched the restless motions of the little 

235 fish in a deep still nook below. Strange to say, I 
seemed to have gained strength since the morning, and 
almost felt a sense of returning health. 

We built our fire. Night came, and the wolves 
began to howl. One deep voice commenced, and 

240 it was answered in awful responses from the hills, 
the plains and the woods along the stream above 
and below us. Such sounds need not and do not 
disturb one's sleep upon the prairie. We picketed 
the mare and the mule close at our feet, and did 

245 not awake until daylight. Then we turned them 
loose, still hobbled, to feed for an hour before start- 



igo THE OREGON TRAIL 

ing. We were getting ready our morning's meal, 
when Raymond saw an antelope at half a mile's 
distance, and said he would go and shoot it. 

250 ''Your business," said I, ''is to look after the 
animals. I am too weak to do much if anything 
happens to them, and you must keep within sight 
of the camp." 

Raymond promised, and set out with his rifle in 

255 his hand. The animals had passed across the stream, 
and were feeding among the long grass on the other 
side, much tormented by the attacks of the numerous 
large green-headed flies. As I watched them, I saw 
them go down into a hollow, and as several minutes 

260 elapsed without their reappearing, I waded through 
the stream to look after them. To my vexation and 
alarm I discovered them at a great distance, galloping 
away at full speed, Pauline in advance, with her hobbles 
broken, and the mule, still fettered, following with 

265 awkward leaps. I fired my rifle and shouted to recall 
Raymond. In a moment he came running through 
the stream, with a red handkerchief bound round 
his head. I pointed to the fugitives, and ordered him 
to pursue them. Muttering a "Sacre!" between his 

2 70 teeth, he set out at full speed, still swinging his rifle 
in his hand. I walked up to the top of a hill, and look- 
ing away over the prairie, could just distinguish the 
runaways, still at full gallop. Returning to the fire, 
I sat down at the foot of a tree. Wearily and anxiously 

275 hour after hour passed away. The old loose bark 
dangling from the trunk behind me flapped to and 
fro in the wind, and the mosquitoes kept up their 
incessant drowsy humming; but other than this, there 
was no sight nor sound of life throughout the burning 

2 80 landscape. The sun rose higher and higher, until the 
shadows fell almost perpendicularly, and I knew 
that it must be noon. It seemed scarcely possible 



THE OREGON TRAIL 191 

that the animals could be recovered. If they were 
not, my situation was one of serious difficulty. Shaw, 

285 when I left him, had decided to move that morning, 
but whither he had not determined. To look for 
him would be a vain attempt. Fort Laramie was 
forty miles distant, and I could not walk a mile with- 
out great effort. Not then having learned the sound 

290 philosophy of yielding to disproportionate obstacles, 
I resolved to continue in any event the pursuit of the 
Indians. Only one plan occurred to me; this was 
to send Raymond to the fort with an order for more 
horses, while I remained on the spot, awaiting his 

295 return, which might take place within three days. 
But the adoption of this resolution did not wholly allay 
my anxiety, for it involved both uncertainty and 
danger. To remain stationary and alone for three 
days, in a country full of dangerous Indians, was not 

300 the most flattering of prospects; and protracted as my 
Indian hunt must be by such delay, it was not easy to 
foretell its ultimate result. Revolving these matters 
I grew hungry; and as our stock of provisions, except 
four or five pounds of flour, was by this time exhausted, 

305 1 left the camp to see what game I could find. Nothing 
could be seen except four or five large curlew, which, 
with their loud screaming, were wheeling over my 
head, and now and then alighting upon the prairie. 
I shot two of them, and was about returning, when 

310 a startling sight caught my eye. A small, dark ob- 
ject, like a human head, suddenly appeared, and 
vanished among the thick bushes along the stream 
below. In that country every stranger is a suspected 
enemy. Instinctively I threw forward the muzzle 

3 1 5 of my rifle. In a moment the bushes were violently 
shaken, two heads, but not human heads, protruded, 
and to my great joy I recognized the downcast, dis- 
consolate countenance of the black mule and the 



192 THE OREGON TRAIL 

yellow visage of Pauline. Raymond came upon the 

320 mule, pale and haggard, complaining of a fiery 
pain in his chest. I took charge of the animals while 
he kneeled down by the side of the stream to drink. 
He had kept the runaways in sight as far as the Side 
Fork of Laramie Creek, a distance of more than ten 

325 miles; and here with great difficulty he had succeeded 
in catching them. I saw that he was unarmed, and 
asked him what he had done with his rifle. It had 
encumbered him in his pursuit, and he had dropped it 
on the prairie, thinking that he could find it on his 

330 return; but in this he had failed. The loss might 
prove a very formidable one. I was too much rejoiced 
however, at the recovery of the animals to think much 
about it; and having made some tea for Raymond 
in a tin vessel which we had brought with us, I told 

335 him that I would give him two hours for resting before 
we set out again. He had eaten nothing that day; 
but having no appetite, he lay down immediately 
to sleep. I picketed the animals among the richest 
grass that I could find, and made fires of green wood 

340 to protect them from the flies; then sitting down again 
by the tree, I watched the slow movements of the sun, 
begrudging every moment that passed. 

The time I had mentioned expired, and I awoke 
Raymond. We saddled and set out again, but first 

345 we went in search of the lost rifle, and in the course 
of an hour Raymond was fortunate enough to find 
it. Then we turned westward, and moved over the 
hills and hollows at a slow pace toward the Black 
Hills. The heat no longer tormented us, for a cloud 

350 was before the sun. Yet that day shall, never be 
marked with white in my calendar. The air began 
to grow fresh and cool, the distant mountains frowned 
more gloomily, there was a low muttering of thun- 
der, and dense black masses of cloud rose heavily 



THE OREDON TRAIL 193 

355 behind the broken peaks. At first they were gayly 
fringed with silver by the afternoon sun; but soon 
the thick blackness overspread the whole sky, and 
the desert around us was wrapped in deep gloom. 
I scarcely heeded it at the time, but now I cannot 

360 but feel that there was an awful sublimity in the hoarse 
murmuring of the thunder, in the sombre shadows 
that involved the mountains and the plain. The 
storm broke. It came upon us with a zigzag blinding 
flash, with a terrific crash of thunder, and with a hurri- 

365 cane that howled over the prairie, dashing floods of 
water against us. Raymond looked around, and 
cursed the merciless elements. There seemed no 
shelter near, but we discerned at length a deep ravine 
gashed in the level prairie, and saw half-way down 

370 its side an old pine tree, whose rough horizontal boughs 
formed a sort of pent -house against the tempest. We 
found a practicable passage, and hastily descending, 
fastened our animals to some large loose stones at the 
bottom; then climbing up, we drew our blankets over 

375 our heads, and seated ourselves close beneath the old 
tree. Perhaps I was no competent judge of time, 
but it seemed to me that we were sitting there a full 
hour, while around us poured a deluge of rain, through 
which the rocks on the opposite side of the gulf were 

380 barely visible. The first burst of the tempest soon 
subsided, but the rain poured steadily. At length 
Raymond grew impatient, and scrambling out of the 
ravine, he gained the level prairie above. 

''What does the weather look like?" asked I, 

385 from my seat under the tree. 

"It looks bad," he answered; "dark all around," 
and again he descended and sat down by my side. 
Some ten minutes elapsed. 

" Go up again," said I, " and take another look " ; and 

390 he clambered up the precipice. "Well, how is it?" 



194 THE OREGON TRAIL 

"Just the same, only I see one little bright spot 
over the top of the mountain." 

The rain by this time had begun to abate; and 
going down to the bottom of the ravine, we loosened 

395 the animals, who were standing up to their knees in 
water. Leading them up the rocky throat of the 
ravine, we reached the plain above. ''Am I," I thought 
to myself, ''the same man who, a few months since, 
was seated, a (^uiet student of belles-lettres, in a 

400 cushioned arm-chair by a sea-coal fire?" 

All around us was obscurity; but the bright spot 
above the mountain-tops grew wider and ruddier, 
until at length the clouds drew apart, and a flood of 
sunbeams poured down from heaven, streaming 

405 along the precipices, and involving them in a thin 
blue haze, as soft and lovely as that which wraps 
the Apennines on an evening in spring. Rapidly 
the clouds were broken and scattered, like routed 
legions of evil spirits. The plain lay basking in 

410 sunbeams around us; a rainbow arched the desert 
from north to south, and far in front a line of woods 
seemed inviting us to refreshment and repose. When 
we reached them they were glistening with prismatic 
dew-drops, and enlivened by the songs and flutterings 

41 5 of a hundred birds. Strange winged insects, be- 
numbed by the rain, were clinging to the leaves and 
the bark of the trees. 

Raymond kindled a fire with great difficulty. The 
animals turned eagerly to feed on the soft rich grass, 

420 while I, wrapping myself in my blanket, lay down 
and gazed on the evening landscape. The mountains, 
whose stern features had lowered upon us with so 
gloomy and awful a frown, now seemed lighted up 
with a serene, benignant smile, and the green waving 

425 undulations of the plain were gladdened with the 
rich sunshine. Wet, ill, and wearied as I was, my 



THE OREGON TRAIL 19S 

spirit grew lighter at the view, and I drew from it an 
augury of good for my future prospects. 

When morning came Raymond awoke coughing 

430 violently, though I had apparently received no in- 
jury. We mounted, crossed the little stream, pushed 
through the trees, and began our journey over the 
plain beyond. And now, as we rode slowly along, 
we looked anxiously on every hand for traces of the 

435 Indians, not doubting that the village had passed 
somewhere in that vicinity; but the scanty shriv- 
elled grass was not more than three or four inches 
high, and the ground was of such unyielding hard- 
ness that a host might have marched over it and 

440 left scarcely a trace of its passage. Up hill and down 
hill, and clambering through ravines, we continued 
our journey. As we were skirting the foot of a hill 
I saw Raymond, who was some rods in advance, 
suddenly jerking the reins of his mule. Sliding from 

445 his seat, and running in a crouching posture up a 
hollow, he disappeared; and then in an instant I 
heard the sharp, quick crack of his rifle. A wounded 
antelope came running on three legs over the hill. I 
lashed Pauline and made after him. My fleet little 

450 mare soon brought me by his side, and after leaping 
and bounding for a few moments in vain, he stood still, 
as if despairing of escape. His glistening eyes turned 
up toward my face with so piteous a look that it was 
with feelings of infinite compunction that I shot him 

455 through the head with a pistol. Raymond skinned 
and cut him up, and we hung the forequarters to our 
saddles, much rejoiced that our exhausted stock of 
provisions was renewed in such good time. 

Gaining the top of a hill, we could see along the 

460 cloudy verge of the prairie before us lines of trees 
and shadowy groves, that marked the course of 
Laramie Creek. Some time before noon we reached 



196 THE OREGON TRAIL 

its banks, and began anxiously to search them for 
footprints of the Indians. We followed the stream 

465 for several miles, now on the shore and now wading 
in the water, scrutinizing every sand-bar and every 
muddy bank. So long was the search that we began 
to fear that we had left the trail undiscovered behind 
us. At length I heard Raymond shouting, and 

4 70 saw him jump from his mule to examine some object 
under the shelving bank, I rode up to his side. 
It was the clear and palpable impression of an In- 
dian moccasin. Encouraged by this, we continued 
our search, and at last some appearances on a soft 

475 surface of earth not far from the shore attracted my 
eye; and going to examine them, I found half a dozen 
tracks, some made by men and some by children. 
Just then Raymond observed across the stream the 
mouth of a small branch, entering it from the south. 

480 He forded the water, rode in at the opening, and in a 
moment I heard him shouting again; so I passed over 
and joined him. The little branch had a broad 
sandy bed, along which the water trickled in a scanty 
stream; and on either bank the bushes w^ere so close 

485 that the view was completely intercepted. I found 
Raymond stooping over the footprints of three or four 
horses. Proceeding, we found those of a man, then 
those of a child, then those of more horses; and at 
last the bushes on each bank were beaten down and 

490 broken, and the sand ploughed up with a multitude 
of footsteps, and scored across with the furrows 
made by the lodge-poles that had been dragged 
through. It was now certain that we had found the 
trail. I pushed through the bushes, and at a little 

495 distance on the prairie beyond found the ashes of 
an hundred and fifty lodge-fires, with bones and 
pieces of buffalo-robes scattered around them, and 
in some instances the pickets to which horses had 



THE OREGON TRAIL ig7 

been secured still standing in the ground. Elated 

500 by our success, we selected a convenient tree, and 
turning the animals loose, prepared to make a meal from 
the fat haunch of our victim. 

Hardship and exposure had thriven with me wonder- 
fully. I had gained both health and strength since 

505 leaving La Bonte's camp. Raymond and I made 
a hearty meal together, in high spirits; for we rashly 
presumed that having found one end of the trail we 
should have little difficulty in reaching the other. 
But when the animals were led in, we found that our 

5 10 old ill luck had not ceased to follow us close. As I 
was saddling Pauline, I saw that her eye was as dull 
as lead, and the hue of her yellow coat visibly dark- 
ened. I placed my foot in the stirrup to mount, when 
instantly she staggered and fell flat on her side. Gain- 

Sising her feet with an effort, she stood by the fire with 
a drooping head. Whether she had been bitten by a 
snake, or poisoned by some noxious plant, or attacked 
by a sudden disorder, it was hard to say; but at all 
events, her sickness was sufficiently ill-timed and un- 

5 20 fortunate. I succeeded in a second attempt to mount 
her, and with a slow pace we moved forward on the 
trail of the Indians. It led us up a hill and over a 
dreary plain, and here, to our great mortification, the 
traces almost disappeared, for the ground was hard 

5 2 5 as adamant ; and if its flinty surface had ever retained 
the dint of a hoof, the marks had been washed away 
by the deluge of yesterday. An Indian village, in its 
disorderly march, is scattered over the prairie, often 
to the width of full half a mile; so that its trail is no- 

530 where clearly marked, and the task of following it is 
made doubly wearisome and difficult. By good 
fortune, plenty of large ant-hills, a yard or more in 
diameter, were scattered over the plain, and these 
were frequently broken by the footprints of men and 



198 THE OREGON TRAIL 

535 horses, and marked by traces of the lodge-poles. The 
succulent leaves of the prickly-pear, also, bruised 
from the same causes, helped a little to guide us; so, 
inch by inch, we moved along. Often we lost the 
trail altogether, and then would recover it again; 

540 but late in the afternoon we found ourselves totally 
at fault. We stood alone, without a clue to guide us. 
The broken plain expanded for league after league 
around us, and in front the long dark ridge of moun- 
tains was stretching from north to south. Mount 

545 Laramie, a little on our right, towered high above 
the rest, and from a dark valley just beyond one of 
its lower declivities we discerned volumes of white 
smoke, slowly rolling up into the clear air. 

"I think," said Raymond, ''some Indians must be 

550 there. Perhaps we had better go." But this plan 
was not rashly to be adopted, and we determined 
still to continue our search after the lost trail. Our 
good stars prompted us to this decision, for we after- 
ward had reason to believe, from information given 

555 us by the Indians, that the smoke was raised as a 
decoy by a Crow war-party. 

Evening was coming on, and there was no wood 
or water nearer than the foot of the mountains. So 
thither we turned, directing our course toward the 

5 60 point where Laramie Creek issues forth upon the 
prairie. When we reached it, the bare tops of the 
mountains were still brightened with sunshine. The 
little river was breaking, with a vehement and angry 
current, from its dark prison. There was something 

565 in the near vicinity of the mountains, in the loud 
surging of the rapids, wonderfully cheering and ex- 
hilarating; for although once as familiar as home 
itself, they had been for months strangers to my 
experience. There was a rich grass-plot by the river's 

570 bank, surrounded by low ridges, which would effectually 



THE OREGON TRAIL i99 

screen ourselves and our fire from the sight of wander- 
ing Indians. Here, among the grass, I observed 
numerous circles of large stones, which, as Raymond 
said, were traces of a Dahcotah winter encampment. 

5 75 We lay down, and did not awake till the sun was up. 
A large rock projected from the shore, and behind it 
the deep water was slowly eddying round and round. 
The temptation was irresistible. I threw off my 
clothes, leaped in, suffered myself to be borne once 

580 round with the current, and then, seizing the strong 
root of a water-plant, drew myself to the shore. The 
effect was so invigorating and refreshing, that I mis- 
took it for returning health. '\Pauline," thought I, 
as I led the little mare up to be saddled, "only thrive 

585 as I do, and you and I will have sport yet among the 
buffalo beyond these mountains." But scarcely were 
we mounted and on our way, before the momentary 
glow passed. Again I hung as usual in my seat, 
scarcely able to hold myself erect. 

590 "Look yonder," said Raymond; "you see that 
big hollow there; the Indians must have gone that 
way, if they went anywhere about here." 

We reached the gap, which was like a deep notch 
cut into the mountain-ridge, and here we soon dis- 

595cerned an ant-hill furrowed with the mark of a lodge- 
pole. This was quite enough; there could be no 
doubt now. As we rode on, the opening growing 
narrower, the Indians had been compelled to march 
in closer order, and the traces became numerous 

600 and distinct. The gap terminated in a rocky gate- 
way, leading into a rough passage upward, between 
two precipitous mountains. Here grass and weeds 
were bruised to fragments by the throng that had 
passed through. We moved slowly over the rocks, 

605 up the passage; and in this toilsome manner we 
advanced for an hour or two, bare precipices, hun- 



200 THE OREGON TRAIL 

dreds of feet high, shooting up on either hand. Ray- 
mond, with his hardy mule, was a few rods before me, 
when we came to the foot of an ascent steeper than 

6iothe rest, and which I trusted might prove the highest 
point of the defile. Pauline strained upward for a 
few yards, moaning and stumbling, and then came 
to a dead stop, unable to proceed farther. I dis- 
mounted, and attempted to lead her; but my own 

6 1 5 exhausted strength soon gave out ; so I loosened the 
trail-rope from her neck, and tying it round my arm, 
crawled up on my hands and knees. I gained the top, 
totally exhausted, the sweat-drops trickling from my 
forehead. Pauline stood like a statue by my side, 

620 her shadow falling upon the scorching rock; and in 
this shade, for there was no other, I lay for some time, 
scarcely able to move a limb. All around the black 
crags, sharp as needles at the top, stood glowing in the 
sun, without a tree or a bush or a blade of grass to 

625 cover their precipitous sides. The whole scene seemed 
parched with a pitiless, insufferable heat. 

After awhile I could mount again, and we moved 
on, descending the rocky defile on its western side. 
Thinking of that morning's journey, it has sometimes 

630 seemed to me that there was something ridiculous 
in my position: a man, armed to the teeth, but wholly 
unable to fight, and equally so to run away, traversing 
a dangerous wilderness, on a sick horse. But these 
thoughts were retrospective, for at the time I was in 

635 too grave a mood to entertain a very lively sense of 
the ludicrous. 

Raymond's saddle-girth slipped; and while I pro- 
ceeded he was stopping behind to repair the mis- 
chief. I came to the top of a little declivity, where 

640 a most welcome sight greeted my eye; a nook of 
fresh green grass nestled among the cliffs, sunny 
clumps of bushes on one side, and shaggy old pine 



THE OREGON TRAIL 201 

trees leaning forward from the rocks on tlie other. 
A shrill, familiar voice saluted me, and recalled me 

645 to days of boyhood; that of the insect called the 
"locust" by New England school-boys, which was 
fast clinging among the heated boughs of the old 
pine trees. Then, too, as I passed the bushes, the 
low sound of falling water reached my ear. Pauline 

650 turned of her own accord, and pushing through the 
boughs, we found a black rock, over-arched by the 
cool green canopy. An icy stream was pouring from 
its side into a wide basin of white sand, from whence it 
had no visible outlet, but filtered through into the soil 

65 5 below. While I filled a tin cup at the spring, Pauline 
was eagerly plunging her head deep in the pool. Other 
visitors had been there before us. All around in the 
soft soil were the footprints of elk, deer, and the Rocky 
Mountain sheep; and the grizzly bear too had left 

660 the recent prints of his broad foot, with its frightful 
array of claws. Among these mountains was his 
home. 

Soon after leaving the spring we found a little 
grassy plain, encircled by the mountains, and marked, 

665 to our great joy, with all the traces of an Indian camp. 
Raymond's practised eye detected certain signs, by 
which he recognized the spot where Reynal's lodge 
had been pitched and his horses picketed. I ap- 
proached, and stood looking at the place. Reynal 

670 and I had, I believe, hardly a feeling in common. I 
disliked the fellow, and it perplexed me a good deal 
to understand why I should look with so much interest 
on the ashes of his fire, when between him and me there 
seemed no other bond of sympathy than the slender 

675 and precarious one of a kindred race. 

In half an hour from this we were clear of the 
mountains. There was a plain before us, totally 
barren and thickly peopled in many parts with the 



202 THE OREGON TRAIL 

little prairie-dogs, who sat at the mouths of their 

680 burrows and yelped at us as we passed. The plain, 
as we thought, was about six miles wide; but it cost 
us two hours to cross it. Then another mountain- 
range rose before us, grander and more wild than 
the last had been. Far out of the dense shrubbery 

68 5 that clothed the steeps for a thousand feet shot up 
black crags, all leaning one way, and shattered by 
storms and thunder into grim and threatening shapes. 
As we entered a narrow passage on the trail of the In- 
dians, they impended frightfully on one side, above 

690 our heads. 

Our course was through dense woods, in the shade 
and twinkling sunlight of overhanging boughs. I 
would I could recall to mind all the startling combina- 
tions that presented themselves, as winding from 

695 side to side of the passage, to avoid its obstructions, 
we could see, glancing at intervals through the foliage, 
the awful forms of the gigantic cliffs, that seemed at 
times to hem us in on the right and on the left, before 
us and behind! Another scene in a few moments 

700 greeted us; a tract of gay and sunny woods, broken 
into knolls and hollows, enlivened by birds and inter- 
spersed with flowers. Among the rest I recognized 
the mellow whistle of the robin, an old familiar friend, 
whom I had scarce expected to meet in such a place. 

705 Bumble-bees too were buzzing heavily about the 
flowers; and of these a species of larkspur caught my 
eye, more appropriate, it should seem, to cultivated 
gardens than to a remote wilderness. Instantly it 
recalled a multitude of dormant and delightful recollec- 

7 lotions. 

Leaving behind us this spot and its associations, 
a sight soon presented itself characteristic of that 
war-like region. In an open space, fenced in by 
high rocks, stood two Indian forts, of a square form, 



THE OREGON TRAIL 203 

715 rudely built of slicks and logs. They were some- 
what ruinous, having probably been constructed the 
year before. Each might have contained about 
twenty men. Perhaps in this gloomy spot some 
party had been beset by their enemies, and those 

7 20 scowling rocks and blasted trees might not long since 
have looked down on a conflict unchronicled and un- 
known. Yet if any traces of bloodshed remained 
they were completely hidden by the bushes and tall 
rank weeds. 

725 Gradually the mountains drew apart, and the pas- 
sage expanded into a plain, where again we found 
traces of an Indian encampment. There were trees 
and bushes just before us, and we stopped here for 
an hour's rest and refreshment. When we had fin- 

73oished our meal, Raymond struck fire, and lighting 
his pipe, sat down at the foot of a tree to smoke. For 
some time I observed him puffing away with a face 
of unusual solemnity. Then, slowly taking the 
pipe from his lips, he looked up and remarked that 

735 we had better not go any farther. 
''Why not?" asked I. 

He said that the country was becoming xtry dan- 
gerous, that we were entering the range of the Snakes, 
Arapahoes, and Gros- ventre Blackfeet, and that if 

740 any of their wandering parties should meet us, it 
would cost us our lives; but he added, with a blunt 
fidelity that nearly reconciled me to his stupidity, 
that he would go anywhere I wished. I told him to 
bring up the animals, and mounting them we pro- 

74 5ceeded again. I confess that, as we moved for- 
ward, the prospect seemed but a dreary and doubtfu 
one. I would have given the world for my ordinary 
elasticity of body and mind, and for a horse of such 
strength and spirit as the journey required. 

750 Closer and closer the rocks gathered around us. 



204 THE OREGON TRAIL 

growing taller and steeper, and pressing more and 
more upon our path. We entered at length a defile 
which I never have seen rivalled. The mountain 
was cracked from top to bottom, and we were creep- 

75 5 ing along the bottom of the fissure, in dampness and 
gloom, with the clink of hoofs on the loose shingly 
rocks, and the hoarse murmuring of a petulant brook 
which kept us company. Sometimes the water, 
foaming among the stones, overspread the whole 

760 narrow passage; sometimes, withdrawing to one 
side, it gave us room to pass dry-shod. Looking 
up, we could see a narrow ribbon of bright blue sky 
between the dark edges of the opposing cliffs. This 
did not last long. The passage soon widened, and 

765 sunbeams found their way down, flashing upon the 
black waters. The defile would spread out to many 
rods in width; bushes, trees, and flowers would 
spring by the side of the brook; the cliffs would be 
feathered with shrubbery that clung in every crev- 

770 ice; and fringed with trees that grew along their 
sunny edges. Then we would be moving again in 
the darkness. The passage seemed about four miles 
long, and before we reached the end of it the unshod 
hoofs of our animals were lamentably broken, and 

775 their legs cut by the sharp stones. Issuing from the 
mountain we found another plain. All around it 
stood a circle of lofty precipices, that seemed the 
impersonation of Silence and Solitude. Here again 
the Indians had encamped, as well they might, after 

780 passing, with their women, children, and horses, 
through the gulf behind us. In one day we had 
made a journey which had cost them three to accom- 
plish. 

The only outlet to this amphitheatre lay over a 

785 hill some two hundred feet high, up which we moved 
with difficulty. Looking from the top, we saw that 



THE OREGON TRAIL 265 

at last we were free of the mountains. The prairie 
spread before us, but so wild and broken that the 
view was everywhere obstmcted. P'ar on our left 

790 one tall hill swelled up against the sky, on the smooth, 
pale-green surface of which four slowly moving black 
specks were discernible. They were evidently buffalo, 
and we hailed the sight as a good augury; for where 
the buffalo were there too the Indians would probably 

705 be found. We hoped on that very night to reach the 
village. We were anxious to do so for a double 
reason, wishing to bring our wearisome journey 
to an end, and knowing, moreover, that though to 
enter the village in broad daylight would be a per- 

Soofectly safe experiment, yet to encamp in its vicinity 
would be dangerous. But as we rode on the sun was 
sinking, and soon was within half an hour of the 
horizon. We ascended a hill and looked around us 
for a spot for our encampment. The prairie was like 

805 a turbulent ocean, suddenly congealed when its waves 
were at the highest, and it lay half in light and half 
in shadow, as the rich sunshine, yellow as gold, was 
pouring over it. The rough bushes of the wild 
sage were growing everywhere, its dull pale green 

8 10 overspreading hill and hollow. Yet a little way 
before us a bright verdant line of grass was winding 
along the plain, and here and there throughout its 
course water was glistening darkly. We went down 
to it, kindled a fire, and turned our horses loose to 

81 5 feed. It was a little trickling brook, that for some 
yards on either bank turned the barren prairie into 
fertility, and here and there it spread into deep pools, 
where the beaver had dammed it up. 

We placed our last remaining piece of the ante- 

820 lope before a scanty fire, mournfully reflecting on 
our exhausted stock of i)rovisions. Just then an 
enormous gray hare, peculiar to these prairies, came 



2o6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

jumping along, and seated himself within fifty yards 
to look at us. I thoughtlessly raised my rifle to 

825 shoot him, but Raymond called out to me not to fire 
for fear the report should reach the ears of the In- 
dians. That night for the first time we considered 
that the danger to which we were exposed was of 
a somewhat serious character; and to those who 

830 are unacquainted with Indians it may seem strange 
that our chief apprehensions arose from the supposed 
proximity of the people whom we intended to visit. 
Had any straggling party of these faithful friends 
caught sight of us from the hill-top, they would prob- 

835 ably have returned in the night to plunder us of our 
horses and perhaps of our scalps. But we were on the 
prairie, where the genius loci is at war with all nervous 
apprehensions; and I presume that neither Raymond 
nor I thought twice of the matter that evening. 

840 While he was looking after the animals, I sat by 
the fire, engaged in the novel task of baking bread. 
The utensils were of the most simple and primitive 
kind, consisting of- two sticks inclining over the bed 
of coals, one end thrust into the ground while the 

84 5 dough was twisted in a spiral form around the other. 
Under such circumstances all the epicurean in a 
man's nature is apt to awaken within him. I re- 
visited in fancy the far-distant abodes of good fare, 
not, indeed, Frascati's or the Trois Freres Proven- 

85ocaux, for that were too extreme a flight; but no 
other than the homely table of my old friend and 
host, Tom Crawford, of the White Mountains. By 
a singular revulsion, Tom himself, whom I well 
remember to have looked upon as the impersonation 

85 5 of all that is wild and backwoodsman-like, now ap- 
peared before me as the ministering angel of com- 
fort and good living. Being fatigued and drowsy, 
I began to doze, and my thoughts, following the same 



THE OREGON TRAIL 207 

train of association, assumed another form. Half- 

860 dreaming, I saw myself surrounded with the moun- 
tains of New England, alive with water-falls, their 
black crags cinctured with milk-white mists. For 
this reverie I paid a speedy penalty; for the bread 
was black on one side and soft on the other. 

865 For eight hours Raymond and I, pillowed on our 
saddles, lay insensible as logs. Pauline's yellow 
head was stretched over me when I awoke. I got up 
and examined her. Her feet, indeed, were bruised 
and swollen by the accidents of yesterday, but her 

870 eye was brighter, her motions livelier, and her mys- 
terious malady had visibly abated. We moved on, 
hoping within an hour to come in sight of the Indian 
village; but again disappointment awaited us. The 
trail disappeared, melting away upon a hard and 

875 stony plain. Raymond and I separating, rode from side 

to side, scrutinizing every yard of ground, until at length 

I discerned traces of the lodge-poles, passing by the side 

of a ridge of rocks. We began again to follow them. 

"What is that black spot out there on the prairie?" 

880 *'It looks like a dead buffalo," answered Raymond. 
We rode out to it, and found it to be the huge 
carcass of a bull killed by the hunters as they had 
passed. Tangled hair and scraps of hide were scat- 
tered all around, for the wolves had been making 

885 merry over it, and had hollowed out the entire car- 
cass. It was covered w^ith myriads of large black 
crickets, and from its appearance must certainly 
have lain there for four or five days. The sight 
was a most disheartening one, and I observed to Ray- 

89omond that the Indians might still be fifty or sixty 

miles before us. But he shook his head, and replied 

that they dared not go so far for fear of their enemies, 

the Snakes. 

Soon after this we lost the trail again, and ascended 



2o8 • THE OREGON TRAIL 

895 a neighboring ridge, totally at a loss. Before us lay a 
plain perfectly flat, spreading on the right and left, 
without apparent limit, and bounded in front by a long 
broken hne of hills, ten or twelve miles distant. All 
was open and exposed to view, yet not a buffalo nor an 

900 Indian was visible. 

"Do you see that?" said Raymond; "now we 
had better turn around." 

But as Raymond's bourgeois thought otherwise, 
we descended the hill and began to cross the plain. 

905 We had come so far that I knew, perfectly well, neither 
Pauline's limbs nor my own could carry me back 
to Fort Laramie. I considered that the lines of ex- 
pediency and inclination tallied exactly, and that 
the most prudent course was to keep forward. The 

9 10 ground immediately around us was thickly strewn 
with the skulls and bones of buffalo, for here a year 
or two before the Indians had made a "surround"; 
yet no living game presented itself. At length, how- 
ever, an antelope sprang up and gazed at us. We 

9 1 5 fired together, and by a singular fatality we both missed, 
although the animal stood, a fair mark, within eighty 
yards. This ill success might perhaps be charged to 
our own eagerness, for by this time we had no pro- 
vision left except a little flour. We could discern 

9 20 several small lakes, or rather extensive pools of water, 
glistening in the distance. As we approached them, 
wolves and antelope bounded away through the tall 
grass that grew in their vicinity, and flocks of large 
white plover flew screaming over their surface. Hav- 

925 ing failed of the antelope, Raymond tried his hand at 
the birds, with the same ill success. The water 
also disappointed us. Its muddy margin was so 
beaten up by the crowd of bufi'alo that our timorous 
animals were afraid to approach. So we turned 

930 away and moved toward the hills. The rank grass, 



THE OREGON TRAIL 209 

where it was not trampled down by the buffalo, 
fairly swept our horses' necks. 

Again we found the same execrable barren prai- 
rie, offering no clue by which to guide our way. As 
we drew near the hills, an opening appeared, through 

935 which the Indians must have gone if they had passed 
that way at alL Slowly we began to ascend it. I felt 
the most dreary forebodings of ill success, when, on 
looking around, I could discover neither dent of hoof 
nor footprint nor trace of lodge-pole, though the pas- 

940 sage was encumbered by the ghastly skulls of buffalo. 

We heard thunder muttering; a storm was coming on. 

As we gained the top of the gap, the prospect beyond 

began to disclose itself. First, we saw a long dark 

line of ragged clouds upon the horizon, while above 

945 them rose the peak of the Medicine-Bow, the van- 
guard of the Rocky Mountains; then little by little 
the plain came into view, a vast green uniformity, for- 
lorn and tenantless, though Laramie Creek glistened in a 
waving line over its surface, without a bush or a tree 

950 upon its banks. As yet, the round projecting shoulder 

of a hill intercepted a part of the view. I rode in 

advance, when suddenly I could distinguish a few 

dark spots on the prairie, along the bank of the stream. 

"Buffalo!" said I. Then a sudden hope flashed 

955 upon me, and eagerly and anxiously I looked again. 

"Horses!" exclaimed Raymond, with a tremendous 

oath, lashing his mule forward as he spoke. More 

and more of the plain disclosed itself, and in rapid 

succession more and more horses appeared, scattered 

960 along the river-bank, or feeding in bands over the 
prairie. Then, suddenly, standing in a circle by the 
stream, swarming with their savage inhabitants, we 
saw rising before us the tall lodges of the Ogallallah. 
Never did the heart of wanderer more gladden at the 

965 sight of home than did mine at the sight of those wild 
habitations! 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE OGALLALLAH VILLAGE ' 

"They waste as — ay — like April snow, 
In the warm noon, we shrink away; 
And fast they follow, as we go 

Towards the setting day. " — Bryant 

5 Such a narrative as this is hardly the place for por- 
traying the mental features of the Indians. The 
same picture, slightly changed in shade and color- 
ing, would serve, with very few exceptions, for all 
the tribes that lie north of the Mexican territories. 

loBut with this striking similarity in their modes of 
thought, the tribes of the lake and ocean shores, of the 
forests and of the plains, differ greatly in their man- 
ner of life. Having been domesticated for several 
weeks among one of the wildest of the wild hordes 

1 5 that roam over the remote prairies, I had extraordinary 
opportunities of observing them, and I flatter myself 
that a faithful picture of the scenes that passed daily 
before my eyes may not be devoid of interest and 
value. These men were thorough savages. Neither 

20 their manners nor their ideas were in the slightest de- 
gree modified by contact with civilization. They 
knew nothing of the power and real character of the 
white men, and their children would scream in terror 
at the sight of me. Their religion, their superstitions, 

2 5 and their prejudices were the same that had been 
handed down to them from immemorial time. They 
fought with the same weapons that their fathers fought 
with, and wore the same rude garments of skins, 
21Q 



THE OREGON TRAIL 211 

Great changes are at hand in that region. With 

30 the stream of emigration to Oregon and CaHfornia, 
the buffalo will dwindle away, and the large wan- 
dering communities who depend on them for sup- 
port must be broken and scattered. The Indians 
will soon be corrupted by the example of the whites, 

3 5 abased by whiskey, and overawed by military posts; 
so that within a few years the traveller may pass in 
tolerable security through their country on the Pacific 
Railroad. Its danger and its charm will have disap- 
peared together. 

40 As soon as Raymond and I discovered the village 
from the gap in the hills, we were seen in our turn; 
keen eyes were constantly on the watch. As we 
rode down upon the plain, the side of the village 
nearest us was darkened with a crowd of naked figures 

45 gathering around the lodges. Several men came for- 
ward to meet us. I could distinguish among them 
the green blanket of the Frenchman Reynal. When 
we came up the ceremony of shaking hands had to be 
gone through with in due form, and then all were 

50 eager to know what had become of the rest of my 
party. I satisfied them on this point, and we all 
moved forward together toward the village. 

"You've missed it," said Reynal; "if you'd been 
here day before yesterday, you'd have found the whole 

5 5 prairie over yonder black with buffalo so far as you 
could see. There were no cows, though; nothing 
but bulls. We made a ' surround ' every day till yester- 
day. See the village there; don't that look like good 
living?" 

60 In fact, I could see, even at that distance, that long 
cords were stretched from lodge to lodge, over which 
the meat, cut by the squaws into thin sheets, was hang- 
ing to dry in the sun. I noticed, too, that the village 
was somewhat smaller than when I had last seen it, 



212 THE OREGON TRAIL 

65 and I asked Reynal the cause. He said that old Le 

Borgne had felt too weak to pass over the mountains, 

and so had remained behind* with all his relations, 

including Mahto-Tatonka and his brothers. The 

Whirlwind, too, had been unwilling to come so far, 

70 because, as Reynal said, he was afraid. Only half a 

dozen lodges had adhered to him, the main body of 

the village setting their chief's authority at naught, and 

taking the course most agreeable to their inclinations. 

"What chiefs are there in the village now?" said I. 

75 "Well," said Reynal, "there's old' Red- Water, and 

the Eagle-Feather, and the Big Crow, and the Mad 

Wolf, and the Panther, and the White-Shield, and — 

what's his name? — the half-breed Cheyenne." 

By this time we were close to the village, and I 
80 observed that while the greater part of the lodges 
were very large and neat in their appearance, there 
was at one side a cluster of squalid, miserable huts. 
I looked toward them, and made some remark about 
their wretched appearance. But I was touching upon 
8 5 delicate ground. 

"My squaw's relations live in those lodges," said 
Reynal, very warmly, "and there isn't a better set in 
the whole village." 

"Are there any chiefs among them?" asked I. 
90 "Chiefs?" said Reynal; "yes, plenty!" 
"What are their names?" I inquired. 
"Their names? Why, there's the Arrow-Head. 
If he isn't a chief he ought to be one. And there's 
the Hail-Storm. He's nothing but a boy, to be 
95 sure; but he's bound to be a chief one of these days!" 
Just then we passed between two of the lodges, 
and entered the great area of the village. Superb, 
naked figures stood silently gazing on us. 

"Where's the Bad Wound's lodge?" said I to 
100 Reynal. 



THE OREG(Jx\ TRAIL 213 

"There, you've missed it cagainl The Bad Wound 
is away with the Whirlwind. If you could have 
found him here, and gone to live in his lodge, he 
would have treated you better than any man in the 

105 village. But there's the Big Crow's lodge yonder, 

next to old Red-Water's. He's a good Indian for 

the whites, and I advise you to go and live with him." 

''Are there many squaws and children in his lodge?" 

said I. 

no "No; only one squaw and two or three children. 

He keeps the rest in a separate lodge by themselves." 

So, still followed by a crowd of Indians, Raymond 

and I rode up to the entrance of the Big Crow's 

lodge. A squaw came out immediately and took 

1 15 our horses. I put aside the leather flap that covered 
the low opening, and stooping, entered the Big Crow's 
dwelling. There I could see the chief in the dim light, 
seated at one side,' on a pile of buffalo-robes. He 
greeted me with a guttural "How, cola I" I requested 

i2oRevnal to tell him tTiat Raymond and I were come to 
live with him. The Big Crow gave another low ex- 
clamation. If the reader thinks that we were intruding 
somewhat cavalierly, I beg him to observe that every 
Indian in the village would have deemed himself 

125 honored that white men should give such preference 
to his hospitality. 

The squaw spread a buffalo-robe for us in the 
guest's place at the head of the lodge. Our saddles 
were brought in, and scarcely were we seated upon 

1 30 them before the place was thronged with Indians, 
who came crowding in to see us. The Big Crow pro- 
duced his pipe and filled it with the mixture of tobacco 
and shongsasha, or red willow bark. Round and 
round it passed, and a lively conversation went for- 

135 ward. Meanwhile a squaw placed before the two 
guests a wooden bowl of boiled buffalo-meat, but, 



214 THE OREGON TRAIL 

unhappily, this was not the only banquet destined 
to be inflicted on us. Rapidly, one after another, 
boys and young squaws thrust their heads in at the 

1 40 opening, to invite us to various feasts in different parts 
of the village. For half an hour or more we were 
actively engaged in passing from lodge to lodge, tasting 
in each of the bowl of meat set before us, and inhaling 
a whiff or two from our entertainer's pipe. A thunder- 

1 4 5 storm that had been threatening for some time now be- 
gan in good earnest. We crossed over to Reynal's 
lodge, though* it hardly deserved this name, for it con- 
sisted only of a few old buffalo-robes supported on 
poles, and was quite open on one side. Here we sat 

1 50 down, and the Indians gathered around us. 

''What is it," said I, ''that makes the thunder?" 
"It's my belief," said Reynal, "that it is a big 
stone rolling over the sky." 

"Very likely," I repHed; "but I want to know 

1 55 what the Indians think about it." 

So he interpreted my question, which seemed to 
produce some doubt and debate. There was evi- 
dently a difference of opinion. At last old Mene- 
Seela, or Red-Water, who sat by himself at one side, 

1 60 looked up with his withered face, and said he had 
always known what the thunder was. It was a great 
blackbird; and once he had seen it, in a dream, 
swooping down from the Black Hills, with its loud 
roaring wings; and when it flapped them over a lake, 

1 65 they struck lightning from the water. 

"The thunder is bad," said another old man, who 
sat muffled in his buffalo-robe; "he kiUed my brother 
last summer." 

Reynal, at my request, asked for an explanation; 

1 70 but the old man remained doggedly silent, and would 
not look up. Some time after I learned how the acci- 
dent occurred. The man who was killed belonged 



THE OREGON TRAIL 215 

to an association which, among other mystic functions, 
claimed the exclusive power and privilege of fighting 

175 the thunder. Whenever a storm which they wished 
to avert was threatening, the thunder fighters would 
take their bows and arrows, their guns, their magic 
drums, and a sort of whistle, made out of the wing- 
bone of the war-eagle. Thus equipped, they would 

180 run out and fire at the rising cloud, whooping, yelling, 
whistling, and beating their drum to frighten it down 
again. One afternoon a heavy black cloud was coming 
up and they repaired to the top of a hill, where they 
brought all their magic artillery into play against it. 

185 But the undaunted thunder, refusing to be terrified, 
kept moving straight onward, and darted out a bright 
flash which struck one of the party dead, as he was 
in the very act of shaking his long iron-pointed lance 
against it. The rest scattered and ran yelling in an 

190 ecstasy of superstitious terror back to their lodges. 

The lodge of my host, Kongra Tonga, or the Big 
Crow, presented a picturesque spectacle that even- 
ing. A score or more of Indians were seated around 
in a circle, their dark naked forms just visible by the 

195 dull light of the smouldering fire in the centre. The 
pipe glowing brightly in the gloom as it passed from 
hand to hand around the lodge. Then a squaw would 
drop a piece of buffalo-fat on the dull embers. In- 
stantly a bright glancing flame would leap up, darting 

200 its clear light to the very apex of the tall conical struc- 
ture, where the tops of the slender poles that sup- 
ported its covering of leather were gathered together. 
It gilded the features of the Indians, as with animated 
gestures they sat around it, telling their endless stories 

205 of war and hunting. It displayed rude garments of 
skins that hung around the lodge; the bow, quiver, 
and lance, suspended over the resting-place of the chief, 
and the rifles and powder-horns of the two white guests. 



2i6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

For a moment all would be bright as day; then the 

2 lo flames would die away, and fitful flashes from the 
embers would illumine the lodge, and then leave it 
in darkness. Then all the light would wholly fade, 
and the lodge and all within it be involved again in 
obscurity. 

215 As I left the lodge next morning I was saluted by 
howling and yelping from all around the village, and 
half its canine population rushed forth to the attack. 
Being as cowardly as they were clamorous, they kept 
jumping around me at the distance of a few yards, 

2 20 only one little cur, about ten inches long, having 
spirit enough to make a direct assault. He dashed 
valiantly at the leather tassel which in the Dahcotah 
fashion was trailing behind the heel of my moccasin, 
and kept his hold, growling and snarling all the while, 

225 though every step I made almost jerked him over 
on his back. As I knew that the eyes of the whole 
village were on the watch to see if I showed any sign of 
apprehension, I walked forward without looking to 
the right or left, surrounded wherever I went by this 

230 magic circle of dogs. When I came to Reynal's lodge 
I sat down by it, on which the dogs dispersed growling 
to their respective quarters. Only one large white 
one remained, who kept running about before me and 
showing his teeth. I called him, but he only growled 

235 the more. I looked at him well. He was fat and 
sleek; just such a dog as I wanted. ''My friend," 
thought I, "you shall pay for this: I will have you 
eaten this very morning!" 

I intended that day to give the Indians a feast, by 

240 way of conveying a favorable impression of my charac- 
ter and dignity; and a white dog is the dish w^iich 
the customs of the Dahcotah prescribe for all occa- 
sions of formality and importance. I consuhed 
Reynal; he soon discovered that an old woman in 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



24 5 the next lodge was owner of the white dog. I took 
a gaudy cotton handkerchief, and laying it on the 
ground, arranged some vermilion, beads, and other 
trinkets upon it. Then the old squaw was sum- 
moned. I pointed to the dog and to the handkerchief. 
250 She gave a scream of delight, snatched up the prize, 
and vanished with it into her lodge. For a few 
more trifles I engaged the services of two other squaws, 
each of whom took the white dog by one of his paws, 
and led him away behind the lodges, while he kept 
255 looking up at them with a face of innocent surprise. 
Having killed him they threw him into a fire to singe; 
then chopped him up and put him into two large ket- 
tles to boil. IMeanwhile I told Raymond to fry in 
buffalo-fat what little flour we had left, and also to 
260 make a kettle of tea as an additional item of the repast. 
The Big Crow's squaw was briskly at work sweep- 
ing out the lodge for the approaching festivity. I 
confided to my host himself the task of inviting the 
guests, thinking that I might thereby shift from my 
265 own shoulders the odium of fancied neglect and 
oversight. 

When feasting is in question, one hour of the day 
serves an Indian as well as another. My enter- 
tainment came oft' about eleven o'clock. At that 
2 70 hour, Reynal and Raymond walked across the area 
of the village, to the admiration of the inhabitants, 
carrying the two kettles of dog-meat slung on a pole 
between them. These they placed in the centre of 
the lodge, and then went back for the bread and the 
275 tea. Meanwhile I had put on a pair of brilliant 
moccasins, and substituted for my old buck-skin 
frock a coat which I had brought with me in view of 
such public occasions. I also made careful use of 
the razor, an operation which no man will neglect 
280 who desires to gain the good opinion of Indians. 



2i8 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Thus attired, I seated myself between Reynal and 
Raymond at the head of the lodge. Only a few 
minutes elapsed before all the guests had come in 
and were seated on the ground, wxdged together in 

285 a close circle around the lodge. Each brought with 
him a wooden bowl to hold his share of the repast. 
When all were assembled, two of the ofTicials, called 
''soldiers" by the white men, came forward with 
ladles made of the horn of the Rocky Mountain 

290 sheep, and began to distribute the feast, always as- 
signing a double share to the old men and chiefs. 
The dog vanished with astonishing celerity, and 
each guest turned his dish bottom upward to show 
that all was gone. Then the bread was distributed 

295 in its turn, and finally the tea. As the soldiers poured 
it out into the same wooden bowls that had served 
for the substantial part of the meal, I thought it had 
a particularly curious and uninviting color. 

"Oh!" said Reynal, "there was not tea enough, 

300 so I stirred some soot in the kettle, to make it look 
strong." 

Fortunately an Indian's palate is not very dis- 
criminating. The tea was well sweetened, and that 
was all they cared for. 

305 Now, the former part of the entertainment being 
concluded, the time for speech-making was come. 
The Big Crow produced a flat piece of wood on 
which he cut up tobacco and shongsasha, and mixed 
them in due proportions. The pipes were filled and 

3 10 passed from hand to hand around the company. 
Then I began my speech, each sentence being in- 
terpreted by Reynal as I went on, and echoed by 
the whole audience with the usual exclamation of 
assent and approval. As nearly as I can recollect, 

3 1 5 it was as follows : 

"I had come, I told them, from a country so far 



THE OREGON TRAIL 219 

distant, that at the rate they travel, they could not 
reach it in a year." 

"How! how!" 
320 "There the Meneaska were jnore numerous than 
the blades of grass on the prairie. The squaws 
were far more beautiful than any they had ever seen, 
and all the men were brave warriors." 

"How! how! how!" 
325 Here I was assailed by sharp twinges of conscience, 
for I fancied I could perceive a fragrance of per- 
fumery in the air, and a vision rose before me of white- 
kid gloves and silken mustaches with the mild and 
gentle countenances of numerous fair-haired young 
33° men. But I recovered myself and began again. 

"While I was living in the Meneaska lodges, I 
had heard of the Ogallallah, how great and brave a 
nation they were, how they loved the whites, and 
how well they could hunt the buffalo and strike their 
33 5 enemies. I resolved to come and see if all that I 
heard was true." 

"How! how! how! how!" 

"As I had come on horseback through the moun- 
tains, I had been able to bring them only a very few 
340 presents." 

"How!" 

"But I had enough tobacco to give them all a 
small piece. They might smoke it, and see how 
much better it was than the tobacco which they got 
345 from the traders." 

"How! how! how!" 

"I had plenty of powder, lead, knives, and tobacco 
at Fort Laramie. These I was anxious to give them; 
and if any of them should come to the fort before I 
350 went away, I would make them handsome pres- 
ents." 

"How! how! how! how!" 



220 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Raymond then cut up and distributed among 
them two or three pounds of tobacco, and old Mene- 

35 5 Seela began to make a reply. It was quite long, but 
the following was the pith of it : 

"He had always loved the whites. They were 
the wisest people on earth. He believed they could 
do everything, and he was always glad when any 

3 60 of them came to live in the Ogallallah lodges. It was 
true I had not made them many presents, but the 
reason of it was plain. It was clear that I liked 
them, or I never should have come so far to find 
their village." 

365 Several other speeches of similar import followed, 
and then this more serious matter being disposed of, 
there was an interval of smoking, laughing, and 
conversation; but old Mene-Seela suddenly inter- 
rupted it with a loud voice: 

370 "Now is a good time," he said, "when all the 
old men and chiefs are here together, to decide what 
the people shall do. We came over the mountain 
to make our lodges for next year. Our old ones are 
good for nothing; they are rotten and worn out. 

375 But we have been disappointed. We have killed 
buffalo-bulls enough, but we have found no herds of 
cows, and the skins of bulls are too thick and heavy 
for our squaws to make lodges of. There must be 
plenty of cows about the Medicine-Bow Mountain. 

380 We ought to go there. To be sure, it is farther west- 
ward than we have ever been before, and perhaps 
the Snakes will attack us, for those hunting-grounds 
belong to them. But we must have new lodges at 
any rate; our old ones will not serve for another 

3 8 5 year. We ought not to be afraid of the Snakes. 
Our warriors are brave, and they are all ready for war. 
Besides, we have three white men with their rifles to 
help us." 



THE OREGON TRAIL 221 

I could not help thinking that the old man relied 

390 a little too much on the aid of allies, one of whom 

was a coward, another a blockhead, and the third 

an invalid. This speech produced a good deal of 

debate. As Reynal did not interpret what was said, 

I could only judge of the meaning by the features 

39 5 and gestures of the speakers. At the end of it, however, 

the greater number seemed to have fallen in with 

Mene-Seela's opinion. A short silence followed, 

and then the old man struck up a discordant chant, 

which I was told was a song of thanks for the enter- 

4ootainment I had given them. 

"Now," said he, "let us go and give the white 
men a chance to breathe." 

So the company all dispersed into the open air, 
and for some time the old chief was walking around 
405 the village, singing his song in praise of the feast, 
after the usual custom of the nation. 

At last the day drew to a close, and as the sun 
went down the horses came trooping from the surround- 
ing plains to be picketed before the dwellings of their 
410 respective masters. Soon within the great circle of 
lodges appeared another concentric circle of restless 
horses; and here and there fires were glowing and 
flickering amid the gloom, on the dusky figures around 
them. I went over and sat by the lodge of Reynal. 
415 The Eagle-Feather, who was a son of Mene-Seela, 
and brother of my host, the Big Crow, was seated there 
already, and I asked him if the village would move 
in the morning. He shook his head, and said that 
nobody could tell, for since old Mahto-Tatonka had 
420 died, the people had been like children that did not 
know their own minds. They were no better than a 
body without a head. So I, as well as the Indians 
themselves, fell asleep that night without knowing 
whether we should set out in the morning toward the 
425countrv of the Snakes. 



222 THE OREGON TRAIL 

At daybreak, however, as I was coming up from 
the river after my morning's ablutions, I saw that a 
movement was contemplated. Some of the lodges 
were reduced to nothing but bare skeletons of poles; 

430 the leather covering of others was flapping in the 
wind as the squaws were pulling it off. One or two 
chiefs of note had resolved, it seemed, on moving; 
and so having set their squaws at work, the example 
was tacitly followed by the rest of the village. One 

43 5 by one the lodges were sinking down in rapid succession 
and where the great circle of the village had been only 
a moment before, nothing now remained but a ring of 
horses and Indians, crowded in confusion together. 
The ruins of the lodges were spread over the ground, 

440 together with kettles, stone mallets, great ladles of 
horn, buffalo-robes, and cases of painted hide, filled 
with dried meat. Squaws bustled about in their busy 
preparations, the old hags screaming to one another 
at the stretch of their leathern lungs. The shaggy 

445 horses were patiently standing while the lodge-poles 
were lashed to their sides, and the baggage piled upon 
their backs. The dogs, with their tongues lolling 
out, lay lazily panting and waiting for the time of 
departure. Each warrior sat on the ground by the 

450 decaying embers of his fire, unmoved amid all the 
confusion, while he held in his hand the long trail- 
rope of his horse. 

As their preparations were completed, each family 
moved off the ground. The crowd was rapidly melt- 

455 ing away. I could see them crossing the river, and 
passing in quick succession along the profile of the 
hill on the farther bank. When all were gone, I 
mounted and set out after them, followed by Ray- 
mond, and as we gained the summit, the whole village 

460 came in view at once, straggling away for a mile or 
more over the barren plains before us. Everywhere 



THE OREGON TRAIL 223 

the iron points of lances were glittering. The sun 
never shone upon a more strange array. Here were 
the heavy laden pack-horses, some wretched old 

465 women leading them, and two or three children cling- 
ing to their backs. Here were mules or ponies covered 
from head to tail with gaudy trappings, and mounted 
by some gay young squaw, grinning bashfulness and 
pleasure as the Meneaska looked at her. Boys with 

470 miniature bows and arrows were wandering over 
the plains, little naked children were running along 
on foot, and numberless dogs were scampering among 
the feet of the horses. The young braves, gaudy with 
paint and feathers, were riding in groups among the 

475 crowd, and often galloping, two or three at once along 
the line, to try the speed of their horses. Here and 
there you might see a rank of sturdy pedestrians stalk- 
ing along in their white buffalo -robes. These were 
the dignitaries of the village, the old men and war- 

4^oriors, to whose age and experience that wandering 
democracy yielded a silent deference. With the 
rough prairie and the broken hills for its background, 
the restless scene was striking and picturesque beyond 
description. Days and weeks made me familiar with 

485 it, but never impaired its effect upon my fancy. 

As we moved on, the broken column grew yet 
more scattered and disorderly, until, as we approached 
the foot of a hill, I saw the old men before mentioned 
seating themselves in a line upon the ground, in ad- 

49ovance of the whole. They lighted a pipe and sat 
smoking, laughing, and telling stories, while the 
people, stopping as they successively came up, were 
soon gathered in a crowd behind them. Then the 
old men rose, drew their buffalo-robes over their 

49 5 shoulders, and strode on as before. Gaining the top 
of the hill, we found a very steep declivity before us. 
There was not a minute's pause. The whole de- 



224 THE OREGON TRAIL 

scended in a mass, amid dust and confusion. The 
horses braced their feet as they shd down, women and 

500 children were screaming, dogs yelping as they were 
trodden upon, while stones and earth went rolling to 
the bottom. In a few moments I could see the village 
from the summit, spreading again far and wide over 
the plain below. 

505 At our encampment that afternoon I was attacked 
anew by my old disorder. In half an hour the strength 
that I had been gaining for a week past had vanished 
again, and I became like a man in a dream. But at 
sunset I lay down in the Big Crow's lodge and slept, 

5 10 totally unconscious till the morning. The first thing 
that awakened me was a hoarse flapping over my 
head, and a sudden light that poured in upon me. 
The camp was breaking up, and the squaws were 
moving the covering from the lodge. I arose and 

5 1 5 shook off my blanket with the feeling of perfect health; 
but scarcely had I gained my feet when a sense of my 
helpless condition was once more forced upon me, 
and I found myself scarcely able to stand. Raymond 
had brought up Pauline and the mule, and I stooped 

520 to raise my saddle from the ground. My strength 
was quite inadequate to the task. "You must saddle 
her," said I to Raymond, as I sat down again on a 
pile of buffalo - robes : 

'*Et haec etiam fortasse meminisse juvabit," 

525 1 thought, while with a painful effort I raised myself 
into the saddle. Half an hour after even the expecta- 
tion that Virgil's line expressed seemed destined to 
disappointment. x\s we were passing over a great 
plain, surrounded by long broken ridges, I rode 

5 30 slowly in advance of the Indians, with thoughts that 
wandered far from the time and from the place. Sud- 
denly the sky darkened, and thunder began to mutter. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 225 

Clouds were rising over the hills, as dreary and dull 
as the first forebodings of an approaching calamity; 

535 and in a moment all around was wrapped in shadow. 
I looked behind. The Indians had stopped to pre- 
pare for the approaching storm, and the dark, dense 
mass of savages stretched far to the right and left. 
Since the first attack of my disorder the efl'ects of rain 

540 upon me had usually been injurious in the extreme. 
I had no strength to spare, having at that moment 
scarcely enough to keep my seat on horseback. Then, 
for the first time, it pressed upon me as a strong prob- 
ability that I might never leave those deserts. "Well," 

545 thought I to myself, "a prairie makes quick and 
sharp work. Better to die here, in the saddle to 
the last, than to stifle m the hot air of a sick cham- 
ber; and a thousand times better than to drag out 
life, as many have done, in the helpless inaction of 

550 lingering disease." So, drawing the buffalo-robe 
on which I sat over my head, I waited till the storm 
should come. It broke at last with a sudden burst 
of fury, and, passing away as rapidly as it came, 
left the sky clear again. My reflections served me 

555 no other purpose than to look back upon as a piece 
of curious experience; for the rain did not produce 
the ill effects that I had expected. We encamped 
within an hour. Having no change of clothes, I 
contrived to borrow a curious kind of substitute from 

5 6oReynal; and this done, I went home, that is, to 
the Big Crow's lodge, to make the entire transfer 
that was necessary. Half a dozen squaws were in 
the lodge, and one of them taking my arm held it 
against her own, while a general laugh and scream 

565 of admiration was raised at the contrast in the color 
of the skin. 

Our encampment that afternoon was not far dis- 
tant from a spur of the Black Hills, whose ridges, 



226 THE OREGON TRAIL 

bristling with fir trees, rose from the plains a mile or 

5 70 two on our right. That they might move more 
rapidly toward their proposed hunting-grounds, the 
Indians determined to leave at this place their stock 
of dried meat and other superfluous articles. Some 
left even their lodges, and contented themselves 

5 75 with carrying a few hides to make a shelter from the 
sun and rain. Half the inhabitants set out in the 
afternoon, with loaded pack-horses, toward the 
mountains. Here they suspended the dried meat 
upon trees, where the wolves and grizzly bears could 

5 80 not get at it. All returned at evening. Some of 
the young men declared that they had heard the re- 
port of guns among the mountains to the eastward, 
and many surmises were thrown out as to the origin 
of these sounds. For my part, I was in hopes that 

385 Shaw and Henry Chatillon were coming to join us. 
I would have welcomed them cordially, for I had no 
other companions than two brutish white men and 
five hundred savages. I little suspected that at that 
very moment my unlucky comrade was lying on a 

5 90 buffalo-robe at Fort Laramie, fevered with ivy poison, 

and solacing his woes with tobacco and Shakespeare. 

As we moved over the plains on the next morning, 

several young men were riding about the country as 

scouts; and at length we began to see them occasion- 

:, 9 5 ally on the tops of the hills, shaking their robes as a 
signal that they saw buffalo. Soon after some bulls 
came in sight. Horsemen darted away in pursuit, and 
we could see from the distance that one or two of the 
buffalo were killed. Raymond suddenly became 

600 inspired. I looked at him as he rode by my side; 
his face had actually grown intelligent ! 

"This is the country for me!" he said; ''if I could 
only carry the buffalo that are killed here every month 
down to St. Louis, I'd make my fortune in one winter. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 227 

60 5 I'd grow as rich as old Papin or Mackenzie, either. 
I call this the poor man's market. When I'm hungry, 
I have only got to take my rifle and go out and get 
better meat than the rich folks down below can get, 
with all their money. You won't catch me living in 

6ioSt. Louis another winter." 

''No," said Reynal, ''you had better say that, 
after you and your Spanish woman almost starved 
to death there. What a fool you were ever to take 
her to the settlements. " 

615 "Your Spanish woman?" said I; "I never heard 
of her before. Are you married to her?" 

"No," answered Raymond, again looking intel- 
ligent; "the priests don't marry their women, and 
why should I marry mine?" 

620 This honorable mention of the Mexican clergy 
introduced the subject of religion, and I found that 
my two associates, in common with other white men 
in the country, were as indifferent to their future wel- 
fare as men whose lives are in constant peril are apt 

62 5 to be. Raymond had never heard of the Pope. A 
certain bishop, who lived at Taos or at Santa Fe, 
embodied his loftiest idea of an ecclesiastical dig- 
nitary. Reynal observed that a priest had been at 
Fort Laramie two years ago, on his way to the Nez 

630 Perce Mission, and that he had confessed all the 
men there, and given them absolution. "I got a 
good clearing out myself, that time," said Reynal, 
"and I reckon that will do for me till I go down to the 
settlements again." 

635 Here he interrupted himself with an oath, and 
exclaimed: "Look! look! The 'Panther' is run- 
ning an antelope!" 

The Panther, on his black-and-white horse, one 
of the best in the village, came at full speed over 

640 the hill in hot pursuit of an antelope, that darted 



228 THE OREGON TRAIL 

away like lightning before him. The attempt was 
made in mere sport and bravado, for very few are 
the horses that can for a moment compete in swift- 
ness with this little animal. The antelope ran down 

645 the hill toward the main body of the Indians, who 
were moving oxer the plain below. Sharp yells 
were given, and horsemen galloped out to intercept 
his flight. At this he turned sharply to the left, and 
scoured away with such incredible speed that he dis- 

65otanced all his pursuers, and even the vaunted horse 
of the Panther himself. A few moments after, we wit- 
nessed a more serious sport. A shaggy buffalo-bull 
bounded out from a neighboring hollow, and close 
behind him came a slender Indian boy, riding without 

655 stirrups or saddle, and lashing his eager little horse 
to full speed. Yard after yard he drew closer to his 
gigantic victim, though the bull, w^th his short tail 
erect and his tongue lolling out a foot from his foam- 
ing jaws, was straining his unwieldy strength to the 

660 utmost. A moment more, and the boy was close 

alongside of him. It was our friend the Hail-Storm. 

He dropped the rein on his horse's neck, and jerked 

an arrow like lightning from the quiver at his shoulder. 

''I tell you," said Reynal, "that in a year's time 

665 that boy will match the best hunter in the village. 
There, he has given it to him! — and there goes an- 
other! You feel well, now, old bull, don't you, 
with two arrows stuck in your lights? There, he 
has given him another! Hear how the Hail-Storm 

670 yells when he shoots! Yes, jump at him; try it 
again, old fellow! You may jump all day before 
you get your horns into that pony!" 

The bull sprang again and again at his assailant, 
but the horse kept dodging with wonderful celerity. 

675 At length the bull followed up his attack with a fu- 
rious rush, and the Hail-Storm was put to flight, the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 229 

shaggy monster following close behind. The boy 
clung to his seat like a leech, and secure in the speed 
of his little pony, looked around toward us and laughed. 

680 In a moment he was again alongside of the bull, who 
was now driven to complete desperation. His eye- 
balls glared through his tangled mane, and the blood 
flew from his mouth and nostrils. Thus, still battling 
with each other, the two enemies disappeared over the 

685 hill. 

Many of the Indians rode at full gallop toward the 
spot. We followed at a more moderate pace, and soon 
saw the bull lying dead on the side of the hill. The 
Indians were gathered around him, and several knives 

690 were already at work. These little instruments were 
plied with such wonderful address that the twisted 
sinews were cut apart, the ponderous bones fell asunder 
as if by magic, and in a moment the vast carcass was 
reduced to a heap of bloody ruins. The surrounding 

69 5 group of savages offered no very attractive spectacle 
to a civilized eye. Some w^re cracking the huge 
thigh-bones and devouring the marrow within; others 
were cutting away pieces of the liver and other ap- 
proved morsels, and sw^allowing them on the spot with 

700 the appetite of wolves. The faces of most of them, 
besmeared with blood from ear to ear, looked grim 
and horrible enough. My friend, the White Shield, 
proffered me a marrow-bone, so skilfully laid open 
that all the rich substance within was exposed to view 

705 at once. Another Indian held out a large piece of 
the delicate lining of the paunch, but these courteous 
offerings I begged leave to decline. I noticed one 
little boy who was very busy with his knife about the 
jaws and throat of the buffalo, from which he ex- 

7iotracted some morsel of pecuhar delicacy. It is but 
fair to say that only certain parts of the animal are 
considered eligible in these extempore banquets. The 



22,0 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Indians would look with aljhorrence on any one who 
should partake indiscriminately of the newly-killed 

7 1 5 carcass. 

We encamped that night, and marched westward 
through the greater part of the following day. On 
the next morning we again resumed our journey. 
It was the seventeenth of July, unless my note-book 

720 misleads me. At noon we stopped by some pools 
of rain-water, and in the afternoon again set forward. 
This double movement was contrary to the usual 
practice of the Indians, but all were very anxious to 
reach the hunting-ground, kill the necessary num- 

725 ber of buffalo, and retreat as soon as possible from 
the dangerous neighborhood. I pass by for the 
present some curious incidents that occurred during 
these marches and encampments. Late in the after- 
noon of the last mentioned day we came upon the 

730 banks of a little sandy stream, of which the Indians 
could not tell the name; for they were very ill ac- 
quainted with that part of the country. So parched 
and arid were the prairies around that they could 
not supply grass enough for the horses to feed upon, 

735 and we were compelled to move farther and farther 
up the stream in search of ground for encampment. 
The country was much wilder than before. The 
plains were gashed with ravines and broken into 
hollows and steep declivities, which flanked our 

740 course, as, in long scattered array, the Indians ad- 
vanced up the side of the stream. Mene-Seela 
consulted an extraordinary oracle to instruct him 
where the buffao were to be found. When he with 
the other chiefs sat down on the grass to smoke and 

745 converse, as they often did during the march, the 
old man picked up one of those enormous black and 
green crickets which the Dahcotah call by a name 
that signifies ''They who point out the buffalo," 



THE OREGON TRAIL 231 

The ''Root- Diggers," a wretched tribe beyond the 

7 50 mountains, turn them to good account by making 
them into a sort of soup, pronounced by certain un- 
scrupulous trappers to be extremely rich. Holding 
the bloated insect respectfully between his fingers 
and thumb, the old Indian looked attentively at him 

755 and inquired, "Tell me, my father, where must we 
go to-morrow to find the buffalo?" The cricket 
twisted about his long horns in evident embarrass- 
ment. At last he pointed, or seemed to point, them 
westward. Mene-Seela, dropping him gently on the 

7 60 grass, laughed with great glee, and said that if we 
went that way in the morning we should be sure to 
kill plenty of game. 

Toward evening we came upon a fresh green 
meadow, traversed by the stream, and deep-set 

765 among tall sterile bluffs. The Indians descended 
its steep bank; and as I was at the rear, I was one 
of the last to reach this point. Lances were glitter- 
ing, feathers fluttering, and the water below me was 
crowded with men and horses passing through, 

7 70 while the meadows beyond was swarming with the 
restless crowd of Indians. The sun was just setting, 
and poured its softened light upon them through an 
opening in the hills. 

I remarked to Reynal that at last we had found 

775a good camping-ground. 

"Oh, it is very good," replied he, ironically, "es- 
pecially if there is a Snake war-party about, and 
they take it into their heads to shoot down at us 
from the top of these hills. It is no plan of mine, 

780 camping in such a hole as this!" 

The Indians also seemed apprehensive. High up 
on the top of the tallest bluff, conspicuous in the 
bright evening sunlight, sat a naked warrior on horse- 
back; looking around, as it seemed, over the neighbor- 



2^2 



THE orp:gon trail 



785 ing country; and Raymond told me that many of the 
young men had gone out in different directions as 
scouts. 

The shadows had reached to the very summit of 
the bluffs before the lodges were erected and the 

790 village reduced again to quiet and order. A cry 
was suddenly raised, and men, women, and chil- 
dren came running out with animated faces, and 
looked eagerly through the opening on the hills by 
which the stream entered from the westward. I 

70 5 could discern afar off some dark, heavy masses, 
passing over the sides of a low hill. They disap- 
peared, and then others followed. These were 
bands of buffalo-cows. The hunting-ground was 
reached at last, and everything promised well for 

Soothe morrow's sport. Being fatigued and exhausted, 
I went and lay down in Kongra-Tonga's lodge, 
when Raymond thrust in his head, and called upon 
me to come and see some sport. A number of In- 
dians were gathered, laughing, along the line of 

805 lodges on the western side of the village, and at some 
distance, I could plainly see in the twilight two huge 
black monsters stalking, heavily and solemnly, directly 
toward us. They were bulTalo-bulls. The wind blew 
from them to the village, and such was their blindness 

3 10 and stupidity, that they were advancing upon the 
enemy without the least consciousness of his presence. 
Raymond told me that two young men had hidden 
themselves with guns in a ravine about twenty yards 
in front of us. The two bulls walked slowly on, heavily 

8 1 5 swinging from side to side in their peculiar gait of stupid 
dignity. They approached within four or five rods 
of the ravine where the Indians lay in ambush. Here 
at last they seemed conscious that something was 
wrong, for they both stopped and stood perfectly 

820 still, without looking either to the right or to the 



THE ORECxON TRAIL 233 

left. Nothing of them was to be seen but two huge 
black masses of shaggy mane, with horns, eyes, and 
nose in the centre, and a pair of hoofs visible at the 
bottom. At last the more intelligent of them seemed 

825 to have concluded that it was time to retire. Very 
slowly, and with an air of the gravest and most ma- 
jestic deliberation, he began to turn round, as if he 
were revolving on a pivot. Little by little his ugly 
brown side was exposed to view. A white smoke 

830 sprang out as it were, from the ground; a sharp 
report came with it. The old bull gave a very undigni- 
fied jump, and galloped off. At this his comrade 
wheeled about with considerable expedition. The 
• other Indian shot at him from the ravine, and then 

835 both the bulls were running away at full speed, while 
half the juvenile population of the village raised a 
yell and ran after them. The first bull soon stopped, 
and while the crowd stood looking at him at a respect- 
ful distance, he reeled and rolled over on his side. 

840 The other, wounded in a less vital part, galloped away 
to the hills and escaped. 

In half an hour it was totally dark. I lay down 
to sleep, and ill as I was, there was something very 
animating in the prospect of the general hunt that 

845 was to take place on the morrow. 



CHAPTER XV 

THE HUNTING CAMP 

"The Perse owt of Northamberlande, 
And a vowe to Gode mayde he, 
That he wolde hunte in the mountayns 
Off Chyviat within dayes thre, 
5 In the mauger of doughte Dogles, 

And all that ever with him be. " — Chevy Chase 

Long before daybreak the Indians broke up their 
camp. The women of Mene-Seela's lodge were, as 
usual, among the first that were ready for departure, 

loand I found the old man himself sitting by the em- 
bers of the decayed fire, over which he was warming 
his withered fingers, as the morning was very chilly 
and damp. The preparations for moving were even 
more confused and disorderly than usual. While 

1 5 some families were leaving the ground the lodges 
of others were still standing untouched. At this, 
old Mene-Seela grew impatient, and walking out to 
the middle of the village stood with his robe wrapped 
close around him, and harangued the people in a loud, 

20 sharp voice. Now, he said, when they were on an 
enemy's hunting-grounds, was not the time to behave 
like children; they ought to be more active and united 
than ever. His speech had some effect. The delin- 
quents took down their lodges, and loaded their pack- 

2 5 horses ; and when the sun rose, the last of the men, 
women, and children had left the deserted camp. 

This movement was made merely for the purpose 
of finding a better and safer position. So we ad- 
234 



THE OREGON TRAIL 235 

vanced only three or four miles up the little stream, 

30 before each family assumed its relative place in the 
great ring of the village, and all around the squaws 
were actively at work in preparing the camp. But 
not a single warrior dismounted from his horse. 
All the men that morning were mounted on inferior 

35 animals, leading their best horses by a cord, or con- 
fiding them to the care of boys. In small parties 
they began to leave the ground and ride rapidly 
away over the plains to the westward. I had taken 
no food that morning, and not being at all ambitious 

40 of further abstinence, I went into my host's lodge, 
which his squaws had erected with wonderful celerity, 
and sat down in the centre, as a gentle hint that I 
was hungry. A wooden bowl was soon set before 
me, filled with the nutritious preparation of dried 

45 meat, called Pemmican by the northern voyagers, and 
wasna by the Dahcotah. Taking a handful to break 
my fast upon, I left the lodge just in time to see the 
last band of hunters disappear over the ridge of the 
neighboring hill. I mounted Pauline and galloped 

50 in pursuit, riding rather by the balance than by any 
muscular strength that remained to me. From the 
top of the hill I could overlook a wide extent of desolate 
and unbroken prairie, over which far and near, little 
parties of naked horse-men were rapidly passing. I 

5 5 soon came up to the nearest, and we had not ridden a 
mile before all were united into one large and com- 
pact body. All was haste and eagerness. Each 
hunter was whipping on his horse, as if anxious to be 
the first to reach the game. In such movements among 

60 the Indians this is always more or less the case; but it 
was especially so in the present instance, because 
the head chief of the village was absent, and there 
were but few "soldiers," a sort of Indian police, 
who among their other functions usually assume the 



236 THE OREGON TRAIL 

65 direction of a buffalo-hunt. No man turned to the 
right hand or to the left. We rode at a swift canter 
straight forward, up hill and down hill, and through 
the stiff, obstinate growth of the endless wild-sage 
bushes. For an hour and a half the same red shoul- 

7oders, the same long black hair rose and fell with 
the motion of the horses before me. Very little was 
said, though once I observed an old man severely 
reproving Raymond for having left his rifle behind 
him, when there was some probability of encounter- 

7 sing an enemy before the day was over. As we gal- 
loped across a plain thickly set with sage bushes, 
the foremost riders vanished suddenly from sight, 
as if diving into the earth. The arid soil was cracked 
into a deep ravine. Dow^n we all went in succession 

80 and galloped in a line along the bottom, until we 
found a point where, one by one, the horses could 
scramble out. Soon after, we cartie upon a wide 
shallow stream, and as we rode swiftly over the hard 
sand-beds and through the thin sheets of rippling 

8 5 water, many of the savage horsemen threw them- 

selves to the ground, knelt on the sand, snatched a 
hasty draught, and leaping back again to their seats, 
galloped on again as before. 

Meanwhile scouts kept in advance of the party; 
yoand now we began to see them on the ridge of the 
hills, waving their robes in token that buffalo were 
visible. These, however, proved to be nothing 
more than old straggling bulls, feeding upon the 
neighboring plains, who would stare for a moment 

9 5 at the hostile array and then gallop clumsily off. 

At length we could discern several of these scouts 
making their signals to us at once; no longer waving 
their robes boldly from the top of the hill, but stand- 
ing lower down, so that they could not be seen from 
100 the plains beyond. Game worth pursuing had evi- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 237 

dently been discovered. The excited Indians now- 
urged forward their tired horses even more rapidly 
than before. Pauline, who was still sick and jaded, 
began to groan heavily; and her yellow sides were 

105 darkened with sweat. As we were crowding together 
over a lower intervening hill, I heard Reynal and Ray- 
mond shouting to me from the left; and looking in 
that direction, I saw them riding away behind a party 
of about twenty mean-looking Indians. These were 

1 10 the relatives of Reynal's squaw, Margot, who not wish- 
ing to take part in the general hunt, were riding toward 
a distant hollow, where they could discern a small band 
of buffalo which they meant to appropriate to them- 
selves. I answered to the call by ordering Raymond 

1 15 to turn back and follow me. He reluctantly obeyed, 
though Reynal, who had relied on his assistance in 
skinning, cutting up, and carrying to camp the buffalo 
that he and his party should kill, loudly protested and 
declared that we should see no sport if we went with 

1 20 the rest of the Indians. Followed by Raymond, I 
pursued the main body of hunters, while Reynal, in 
a great rage, whipped his horse over the hill after his 
ragamuffin relatives. The Indians, still about a hun- 
dred in number, rode in a dense body at some distance 

125 in advance. They galloped forward, and a cloud of 
dust was flying in the wind behind them. I could not 
overtake them until they had stopped on the side of 
the hill where the scouts were standing. Here each 
hunter sprang in haste from the tired animal which 
1 30 he had ridden, and leaped upon the fresh horse that 
he had brought with him. There was not a saddle 
or a bridle in the whole party. A piece of buffalo- 
robe, girthed over the horse's back, served in the 
place of the one, and a cord of twisted hair, lashed 
135 firmly round his lower jaw, answered for the other. 
Eagle feathers were dangling from every mane and tail, 



238 THE OREGON TRAIL 

as insignia of courage and speed. As for the rider, he 
wore no other clothing than a light cincture at his 
waist, and a pair of moccasins. He had a heavy 

1 40 whip, with a handle of solid elk-horn, and a lash 
of knotted bull-hide, fastened to his wrist by an 
ornamental band. His bow was in his hand, and 
his quiver of otter or panther-skin hung at his shoul- 
der. Thus equipped, some thirty of the hunters 

1 45 galloped away toward the left, in order to make 
a circuit under cover of the hills, that the buffalo 
might be assailed on both sides at once. The rest 
impatiently waited until time enough had elapsed 
for their companions to reach the required position. 

1 50 Then riding upward in a body, we gained the ridge 
of the hill, and for the first time came in sight of 
the buffalo on the plain beyond. 

They were a band of cows, four or five hundred 
in number, who were crowded together near the 

155 bank of a wide stream that was soaking across the 
sand-beds of the valley. This was a large circular 
basin, sun scorched and broken, scantily covered 
with herbage and encompassed with high barren 
hills, from an opening in which we could see our 

1 60 allies galloping out upon the plain. The wind blew 
from that direction. The buffalo were aware of 
their approach, and had begun to move, though 
very slowly and in a compact mass. I have no farther 
recollection of seeing the game until we were in the 

1 65 midst of them, for as we descended the hill other 
objects engrossed my attention. Numerous old bulls 
were scattered over the plain, and ungallantly desert- 
ing their charge at our approach, began to wade 
and plunge through the treacherous quick-sands of 

1 70 the stream, and gallop away toward the hills. One 
old veteran was struggling behind all the rest with 
one of his forelegs, which had been broken by some 



THE OREGON TRAIL 239 

accident, dangling about uselessly at his side. His 
appearance, as he went shambling along on three 

1 75 legs, was so ludicrous that I could not help pausing 
for a moment to look at him. As I came near, he would 
try to rush upon me, nearly throwing himself down 
at every awkward attempt. Looking up, I saw the 
whole body of Indians fully an hundred yards in ad- 

iSovance. I lashed Pauline in pursuit and reached them 
but just in time; for as we mingled among them, 
each hunter, as if by a common impulse, violently 
struck his horse, each horse sprang forward convul- 
sively, and scattering in the charge in order to assail 

1 85 the entire herd at once, we all rushed headlong upon 
the buffalo. We were among them in an instant. 
Amid the trampling and the yells I could see their 
dark figures running hither and thither through clouds 
of dust, and the horsemen darting in pursuit. While 

1 90 we were charging on one side, our companions had 
attacked the bewildered and panic-stricken herd on 
the other. The uproar and confusion lasted but for 
a moment. The dust cleared away, and the buffalo 
could be seen scattering as from a common centre, 

195 flying over the plain singly, or in long files and small 
compact bodies, while behind each followed the In- 
dians, lashing their horses to furious speed, forcing 
them close upon their prey; and yelling as they 
launched arrow after arrow into their sides. The 

200 large black carcasses were strewn thickly over the 
ground. Here and there wounded buffalo were 
standing, their bleeding sides feathered with arrows; 
and as I rode past them their eyes would glare, they 
would bristle like gigantic cats, and feebly attempt 

205 to rush up and gore my horse. 

I left camp that morning with a philosophic reso- 
lution. Neither I nor my horse was at that time fit 
for such sport, and I had determined to remain a 



240 THE OREGON TRAIL 

quiet spectator; but amid the rush of horses and 

2 lo buffalo, the uproar and the dust, I found it impos- 
sible to sit still; and as four or five buffalo ran past 
me in a line, I drove Pauline in pursuit. We went 
plunging close at their heels through the water and 
the quicksands, and, clambering the bank, chased 

2 15 them through the wild-sage bushes that covered the 
rising ground beyond. But neither her native spirit 
nor the blows of the knotted bull-hide could supply 
the place of poor Pauline's exhausted strength. We 
could not gain an inch upon the poor fugitives. At 

2 20 last, however, they came full upon a ravine too wide 
to leap over; and as this compelled them to turn 
abruptly to the left, I contrived to get within ten or 
twelve yards of the hindmost. At this she faced 
about, bristled angrily, and made a show of charg- 

225 ing. I shot at her with a large holster pistol, and 
hit her somewhere in the neck. Down she tumbled 
into the ravine, whither her companions had de- 
scended before her. I saw their dark backs appear- 
ing and disappearing as they galloped along the 

230 bottom; then, one by one, they came scrambling 
out on the other side, and ran off as before, the wounded 
animal following with unabated speed. 

Turning back, I saw Raymond coming on his 
black mule to meet me; and as we rode over the 

235 field together, we counted dozens of carcasses lying 
on the plain, in the ravines, and on the sandy bed 
of the stream. Far away in the distance, horses 
and buffalo were still scouring along, with little 
clouds of dust rising behind them; and over the 

240 sides of the hills we could see long files of the frightened 
animals rapidly ascending. The hunters began to 
return. The boys, who had held the horses behind 
the hill, made their appearance, and the work of flay- 
ing and cutting up began in earnest all over the field. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 241 

245 1 noticed my host, Kongra-Tonga, beyond the stream, 
just alighting by the side of a cow which he had killed. 
Riding up to him, I found him in the act of drawing 
out an arrow, which, with the exception of the notch 
at the end, had entirely disappeared in the animal. 

2 50 1 asked him to give it to me, and I still retain it as a 
proof, though by no means the most striking one that 
could be offered, of the force and dexterity with which 
the Indians discharge their arrows. 

The hides and meat were piled upon the horses, 

255 and the hunters began to leave the ground. Ray- 
mond and I, too, getting tired of the scene, set out 
for the village, riding straight across the intervening 
desert. There was no path, and, as far as I could 
see, no landmarks sufficient to guide us; but Ray- 

2 6omond seemed to have an instinctive perception of 
the point on the horizon toward which we ought to 
direct our course. Antelope were bounding on all 
sides, and as is always the case in the presence of buf- 
falo, they seemed to have lost their natural shyness 

265 and timidity. Bands of them would run lightly up 
the rocky declivities, and stand gazing down upon 
us from the summit. At length we could distinguish 
the tall white rocks and the old pine trees that, as 
we well remembered, were just above the site of the 

2 70 encampment. Still, we could see nothing of the village 
itself until, ascending a grassy hill, we found the circle 
of lodges, dingy with storms and smoke, standing on 
the plain at our very feet. 

I entered the lodge of my host. His squaw in- 

2 75stantly brought me food and water, and spread a 
buffalo-robe for me to lie upon; and, being much 
fatigued, I lay down and fell asleep. In about an 
hour the entrance of Kongra-Tonga, with his arms 
smeared with blood to the elbows, awoke me. He 

280 sat down in his usual seat, on the left side of the 



242 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



lodge. His squaw gave him a vessel of water for 
washing, set before him a bowl of boiled meat, and 
as he was eating, pulled off his bloody moccasins 
and placed fresh ones on his feet; then, outstretching 

285 his limbs, my host composed himself to sleep. 

And now the hunters, two or three at a time, be- 
gan to come rapidly in, and each, consigning his 
horses to the squaws, entered his lodge with the air 
of a man whose day's work was done. The squaws 

290 flung down the load from the burdened horses, and 
vast piles of meat and hides were soon accumulated 
before every lodge. By this time it was darkening 
fast, and the whole village was illumined by the 
glare of fires blazing all around. All the squaws 

295 and children were gathered about the piles of meat, 
exploring them in search of the daintiest portions. 
Some of these they roasted on sticks before the fires, 
but often they dispensed with this superfluous opera- 
tion. Late into the night the fires were still glow- 

300 ing upon the groups of feasters engaged in this sav- 
age banquet around them. 

Several hunters sat down by the fire in Kongra- 
Tonga's lodge to talk over the day's exploits. Among 
the rest, Mene-Seela came in. Though he must 

305 have seen full eighty winters, he had taken an active 
share in the day's sport. He boasted that he had 
killed two cows that morning, and would have killed 
a third if the dust had not blinded him so that he had 
to drop his bow and arrows and press both hands against 

310 his eyes to stop the pain. The fire-light fell upon his 
wrinkled face and shrivelled figure as he sat telling 
his story with such inimitable gesticulation that every 
man in the lodge broke into a laugh. 

Old Mene-Seela was one of the few Indians in the 

3 1 5 village with whom I would have trusted myself alone 
without suspicion, and the only one from whom I 



THE OREGON TRAIL 243 

should have received a gift or a service without the 
certainty that it proceeded from an interested motive. 
He was a great friend to the whites. He liked to be 

320 in their society, and was very vain of the favors he had 
received from them. He told mc one afternoon, as 
we were sitting together in his son's lodge, that he 
considered the beaver and the whites the wisest people 
on earth ; indeed, he was convinced they were the same ; 

325 and an incident which had happened to him long be- 
fore had assured him of this. So he began the follow- 
ing story, and as the pipe passed in turn to him, Reynal 
availed himself of these interruptions to translate what 
had preceded. But the old man accompanied his 

330 words with such admirable pantomime that translation 
was hardly necessary. 

He said that when he was very young, and had 
never yet seen a white man, he and three or four of 
his companions were out on a beaver-hunt, and he 

335 crawled into a large beaver-lodge to examine what 
was there. Sometimes he was creeping on his hands 
and knees, sometimes he was obliged to swim, and 
sometimes to lie flat on his face and drag himself along. 
In this way he crawled a great distance under ground. 

340 It was very dark, cold, and close, so that at last he was 
almost suffocated, and fell into a swoon. When he 
began to recover, he could just distinguish the voices 
of his companions outside, who had given him up for 
lost, and were singing his death-song. At first he 

345 could see nothing, but soon he discerned something 
white before him, and at length plainly distinguished 
three people, entirely white, one man and two women, 
sitting at the edge of a black pool of water. He 
became alarmed and thought it high time to retreat. 

350 Having succeeded, after great trouble, in reaching 
daylight again, he went straight to the spot directly 
above the pool of water where he had seen the three 



244 THE OREGON TRAIL 

mysterious beings. Here he beat a hole with his war- 
club in the ground, and sat down to watch. In 

355 a moment the nose of an old male beaver appeared 
at the opening. Mene-Seela instantly seized him 
and dragged hirji up, when two other beavers, both 
females, thrust out their heads, and these he served 
in the same way. "These," continued the old rnan, 

360 "must have been the three white people whom I saw 
sitting at the edge of the water." 

Mene-Seela was the grand depository of the legends 
and traditions of the village. I succeeded, however, 
in getting from him only a few fragments. Like all 

365 Indians, he was excessively superstitious, and con- 
tinually saw some reason for withholding his stories. 
"It is a bad thing," he would say, "to tell the tales 
in summer. Stay with us till next winter, and I will 
tell you everything I know; but now our war-parties 

370 are going out, and our young men will be killed if I 
sit down to tell stories before the frost begins." 

But to leave this digression. We remained en- 
camped on this spot five days, during three of which 
the hunters were at work incessantly, and immense 

375 quantities of meat and hides were brought in. Great 
alarm, however, prevailed in the village. All were 
on the alert. The young men were ranging through 
the country as scouts, and the old men paid careful 
attention to omens and prodigies, and especially to 

380 their dreams. In order to convey to the enemy (who, 
if they were in the neighborhood, must inevitably 
have known of our presence) the impression that we 
were constantly on the watch, piles of sticks and 
stones were erected on all the surrounding hills, in such 

385 a manner as to appear, at a distance, like sentinels. 
Often, even to this hour, that scene will rise before 
my mind like a visible reality; the tall white rocks; 
the old pine trees on their summits; the sandy stream 



THE OREGON TRAIL 245 

that ran along their bases and half encircled the village; 

390 and the wild-sage bushes, with their dull green hue 
and their medicinal odor, that covered all the neigh- 
boring declivities. Hour after hour the squaws would 
pass and repass with their vessels of water between the 
stream and the lodges. For the most part, no one 

395 was to be seen in the camp but women and chil- 
dren, two or three superannuated old men, and a few 
lazy and worthless young ones. These, together 
with the dogs, now grown fat and good-natured with 
the abundance in the camp, were its only tenants. 

400 Still it presented a busy and bustling scene. In 
all quarters the meat, hung on cords of hide, was 
drying in the sun, and around the lodges the squaws, 
young and old, were laboring on the fresh hides that 
were stretched upon the ground, scraping the hair 

40 5 from one side and the still-adhering flesh from the 
other, and rubbing into them the brains of the buffalo, 
in order to render them soft and pliant. 

In mercy to myself and my horse, I never went 
out with the hunters after the first day. Of late, 

4 10 however, I had been gaining strength rapidly, as 
was always the case upon every respite of my dis- 
order. I was soon able to walk with ease. Ray- 
mond and I would go out upon the neighboring 
prairies to shoot antelope, or sometimes to assail 

4 1 5 straggling buffalo, on foot; an attempt in which we 
met with rather indifferent success. To kill a bull 
with a rifle-ball is a difficult art, in the secret of which 
I was as yet very imperfectly initiated. As I came 
out of Kongra-Tcnga's lodge one morning, Reynal 

420 called to me from the opposite side of the village, and 
asked me over to breakfast. The breakfast was a 
substantial one. It consisted of the rich, juicy hump- 
ribs of a fat cow; a repast absolutely unrivalled* It 
was roasting before the fire, impaled upon a stout 



246 THE OREGON TRAIL 

425 stick, which Reynal took up and planted in the ground 
before his lodge; when he, with Raymond and myself, 
taking our seats around it, unsheathed our knives 
and assailed it with good will. In spite of all medical 
experience, this solid fare, without bread or salt, seemed 

430 to agree with me admirably. 

^'We shall have strangers here before night," 
said Reynal. 

''How do you know that?" I asked. 

''I dreamed so. I am as good at dreaming as an 

435 Indian. There is the Hail-Storm; he dreamed the 
same thing, and he and his crony, the Rabbit, have 
gone out on discovery." 

I laughed at Reynal for his credulity, went over 
to my host's lodge, took down my rifle, walked out 

440 a mile or two on the prairie, saw an old bull stand- 
ing alone, crawled up a ravine, shot him, and saw 
him escape. Then, quite exhausted and rather ill- 
humored, I walked back to the village. By a strange 
coincidence, Reynal's prediction had been verified; 

445 for the first persons whom I saw were the two trap- 
pers, Rouleau and Saraphin, coming to meet me. 
These men, as the reader may possibly recollect, had 
left our party about a fortnight before. They had 
been trapping for a while among the Black Hills, and 

450 were now on their way to the Rocky Mountains, 
intending in a day or two to set out for the neigh- 
boring Medicine Bow. They were not the most 
elegant or refined of companions, yet they made a 
very welcome addition to the limited society of the 

455 village. For the rest of that day we lay smoking 
and talking in Reynal's lodge. This, indeed, was 
no better than a little hut, made of hides stretched 
on poles, and entirely open in front. It was well 
carpeted with soft buffalo -robes, and here we re- 

46omained, sheltered from the sun, surrounded by various 



THE OREGON TRAIL 247 

domestic utensils of Madame Margot's household. 
All was quiet in the village. Though the hunters 
had not gone out that day, they lay sleeping in their 
lodges, and most of the women were silently engaged 

465 in their heavy tasks. A few young men were playing 
at a lazy game of ball in the centre of the village; 
and when they became tired, some girls supplied their 
place with a more boisterous sport. At a little dis- 
tance, among the lodges, some children and half- 

4 70 grown squaws were playfully tossing up one of their 
number in a buffalo-robe, an exact counterpart of the 
ancient pastime from which Sancho Panza suffered 
so much. Farther out on the prairie, a host of httle 
naked boys were roaming about, engaged in various 

4 75 rough games, or pursuing birds and ground-squirrels 
with their bows and arrows; and woe to the unhappy 
little animals that fell into their merciless, torture- 
loving hands ! A squaw from the next lodge, a notable 
active housewife, named Weah Washtay, or the Good 

480 Woman, brought us a large bowl of wasna, and went 
into an ecstasy of delight when I presented her w^ith 
a green glass ring, such as I usually wore with a view 
to similar occasions. 

The sun went down, and half the sky was glow- 

485 ing fiery red, reflected on the little stream as it wound 
away among the sage bushes. Some young men left 
the village, and soon returned, driving in before them 
all the horses, hundreds in number, and of every size, 
age, and color. The hunters came out, and each 

490 securing those that belonged to him, examined their 
condition, and tied them fast by long cords to stakes 
driven in front of his lodge. It was half an hour be- 
fore the bustle subsided and tranquillity was restored 
again. By this time it was nearly dark. Kettles were 

4Q5hung over the blazing fires, around which the squaws 
were gathered with their children, laughing and talkin<>; 



248" THE OREGON TRAIL 

merrily. A circle of a different kind was formed in the 
centre of the village. This was composed of the old 
men and warriors of repute, who with their white 

500 buffalo-robes drawn close around their shoulders, 
sat together, and as the pipe passed from hand to 
hand, their conversation had not a particle of the 
gravity and reserve usually ascribed to Indians. I 
sat down with them as usual. I had in my hand 

505 half a dozen squibs and serpents, which I had made 
one day when encamped upon Laramie Creek, out 
of gunpowder and charcoal, and the leaves of "Fre- 
mont's Expedition," rolled round a stout lead-pencil. 
I waited till I contrived to get hold of the large pieces 

5 10 of burning hois-de-vache which the Indians kept by 
them on the ground for lighting their pipes. With 
this I lighted all the fireworks at once, and tossed 
them whizzing and sputtering into the air, over the 
heads of the company. They all jumped up and 

5 1 5 ran off with yelps of astonishment and consternation. 
After a moment or two, they ventured to come back 
one by one, and some of the boldest, picking up the 
cases of burnt paper that were scattered about, ex- 
amined them with eager curiosity to discover their 

5 20 mysterious secret. From that time forward I enjoyed 
great repute as a '^ fire-medicine." 

The camp was filled with the low hum of cheer- 
ful voices. There were other sounds, however, of a 
very different kind, for from a large lodge, lighted 

525 up like a gigantic lantern by the blazing fire within, 
came a chorus of dismal cries and wailings, long 
drawn out, like the howling of wolves, and a woman, 
almost naked, was crouching close outside, crying 
violently, and gashing her legs with a knife till they 

530 were covered with blood. Just a year before, a 
young man belonging to this family had gone out 
with a war-party and had been slain by the enemy. 



TH1-. ORKCxON TRAIL 249 

and his relatives were thus lamenting his loss. Still 
other sounds might be heard; loud earnest cries 
5 35 often repeated from amid the gloom, at a distance 
beyond the village. They proceeded from some 
young men who, being about to set out in a few days 
on a warlike expedition, were standing at the top of 
a hill, calling on the Great Spirit to aid them in their 
540 enterprise. While I was Hstening, Rouleau, with a 
laugh on his careless face, called to me and directed 
my attention to another quarter. In front of the 
lodge where Weah Washtay lived another squaw was 
standing, angrily scolding an old yellow dog, who lay 
545 on the ground with his nose resting between his paws, 
and his eyes turned sleepily up to her face, as if he were 
pretending to give respectful attention, but resolved 
to fall asleep as soon as it was all over. 

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself." said the 
55oold woman. "I have fed you well, and taken care 
of you ever since you were small and blind, and 
could only crawl about and squeal a little, instead 
of howling as you do now. When you grew old, I 
said you were a good dog. You were strong and 
555 gentle when the load was put on your back, and you 
never ran among the feet of the horses when we 
were all travelling together over the prairie. But 
you had a bad heart! Whenever a rabbit jumped 
out of the bushes, you were always the first to run 
5 60 after him and lead away all the other dogs behind 
you. You ought to have known that it was very 
dangerous to act so. When ycu had got far out on 
the prairie, and no one was near to help you, per- 
haps a wolf would jump out of the ravine; and then 
565 what could you do? You would certainly have been 
killed, for no dog can fight well with a load on his 
back. Only three days ago you ran off in that way, 
and turned over the bag of wooden pins with which 



fiSo THE OREGON TRAIL 

I uspfl to fasten up the front of the lodge. Look up 

5 70 there, and you will see that it is all flapping open. 
And now to-night you have stolen a great piece of 
fat meat which was roasting before the fire for my 
children. I tell you, you have a bad heart, and 
you must diel" 

575 So saying, the squaw went into the lodge, and 
coming out with a large stone mallet, killed the un- 
fortunate dog at one blow. This speech is worthy of 
notice, as illustrating a curious characteristic of the 
Indians; the ascribing intelligence and a power of 

5 80 understanding speech to the inferior animals; to 
whom, indeed, according to many of their tradi- 
tions, they are linked in close affinity; and they 
even claim the honor of a lineal descent from bears, 
wolves, deer, or tortoises. 

585 As it grew late, and the crowded population began 
to disappear, I too walked across the village to the 
lodge of my host, Kongra-Tonga. As I entered I 
saw him, by the flickering blaze of the fire in the 
centre, reclining half asleep in his usual place. His 

590 couch was by no means an uncomfortable one. It 
consisted of soft buffalo-robes, laid together on the 
ground, and a pillow made of whitened deer-skin, 
stuft'ed with feathers and ornamented with beads. 
At his back was a light framework of poles and slender 

595 reeds, against which he could lean with ease when 
in a sitting posture; and at the top of it, just above 
his head, his bow and quiver were hanging. His 
squaw, a laughing, broad -faced woman, apparently 
had not yet completed her domestic arrangements, for 

600 she was bustling about the lodge, pulling over the 
utensils and the bales of dried meats that were ranged 
carefully around it. Unhappily, she and her partner 
were not the only tenants of the dwelling; for half a 
dozen children were scattered about, sleeping in every 



THE OREGON TRAIL 251 

605 imaginable posture. My saddle was in its place at 
the head of the lodge, and a buffalo-robe was spread 
on the ground before it. Wrapping myself m my 
blanket, I lay down; but had I not been extremely 
fatigued, the noise in the next lodge would have pre- 
610 vented my sleeping. There was the monotonous 
thumping of the Indian drum, mixed with occasional 
sharp yells, and a chorus chanted by twenty voices. 
A grand scene of gambling was going forward with 
all the appropriate formalities. The players were 
615 staking on the chance issue of the game their orna- 
ments, their horses, and as the excitement rose, 
their garments, and even their weapons; for desper- 
ate gambhng is not confined to the hells of Pans. 
The men of the plains and the forests no less resort 
620 to it as a violent but grateful relief to the tedious 
monotony of their lives, which alternate between 
fierce excitement and listless inaction. I fell asleep 
with the dull notes of the drum still sounding on my 
ear; but these furious orgies lasted without mter- 
62 5 mission till daylight. I was soon awakened by one 
of the children crawling over me, while another 
larger one was tugging at my blanket and nesthng 
himself in a very disagreeable proximity. I im- 
mediately repelled these advances by punching the 
630 heads of these miniature savages with a short stick 
which I always kept by me for the purpose; and as 
sleeping half the day and eating much more than 
is good for them makes them extremely restless, this 
operation usually had to be repeated four or five 
635 times in the course of the night. My host himself 
was the author of another most formidable annoy- 
ance. All these Indians, and he among the rest, 
think themselves bound to the constant performance 
of certain acts as the condition on which their suc- 
640 cess in life depends, whether in war, love, hunting, 



252 THE OREGON TRAIL 

or any other employment. These "medicines," as 
they are called in that country, which are usually 
communicated in dreams, are often absurd enough. 
Some Indians will strike the butt of the pipe against 

645 the ground every time they smoke; others will insist 
that everything they say shall be interpreted by con- 
traries ; and Shaw once met an old man who con- 
ceived that all would be lost unless he compelled 
every white man he met to drink a bowl of cold water. 

650 My host was particularly unfortunate in his allotment. 
The Great Spirit had told him in a dream that he must 
sing a certain song in the middle of every night; 
and regularly at about twelve o'clock his dismal monot- 
onous chanting would awaken me, and I would see 

65 5 him seated bolt upright on his couch, going through 

. his dolorous performances with a most business-like 

air. There were other voices of the night, still more 

inharmonious. Twice or thrice, between sunset and 

dawn, all the dogs in the village, and there were 

660 hundreds of them, would bay and yelp in chorus; 
a most horrible clamor, resembling no sound that I 
have ever heard, except perhaps the frightful howl- 
ing of wolves that we used sometimes to hear, long 
afterward, when descending the Arkansas on the 

665 trail of General Kearney's army. The canine up- 
roar is, if possible, more discordant than that of 
the wolves. Heard at a distance, slowly rising on 
the night, it has a strange unearthly effect, and would 
fearfully haunt the dreams of a nervous man ; but when 

670 you are sleeping in the midst of it, the din is outrageous. 
One long loud howl from the next lodge perhaps be- 
gins it, and voice after voice takes up the sound, till 
it passes around the whole circumference of the village, 
and the air is filled with confused and discordant cries, 

675 at once fierce and mournful. It lasts but for a mo- 
ment, and then dies away into silence. 



TTIF. OREGON TRAIL 253 

Morning came, and Kongra-Tonga, mounting his 
horse, rode out with the hunters. It may not be 
amiss to glance at him for an instant in his domestic 

680 character of husband and father. Both he and his 
squaw, hke most other Indians, were very fond of 
their children, whom they indulged to excess, and 
never punished, except in extreme cases, when they 
would throw a bowl of cold water over them. Their 

685 offspring became sufficiently undutiful and disobedient 
under this system of education, which tends not a little 
to foster that wild idea of liberty and utter intolerance 
of restraint which lie at the very foundation of the In- 
dian character. It would be hard to find a fonder 

690 father than Kongra-Tonga. There was one urchin 
in particular, rather less than two feet high, to whom 
he was exceedingly attached; and sometimes spread- 
ing a buffalo-robe in the lodge, he would seat himself 
upon it, place his small favorite upright before him, 

69 5 and chant in a low tone some of the words used as an 
accompaniment to the war-dance. The little fellow, 
who could just manage to balance himself by stretching 
out both arms, would lift his feet and turn slowly round 
and round in time to his father's music, while my host 

700 would laugh with delight, and look smiling up into 
my face to see if I were admiring this precocious per- 
formance of his offspring. In his capacity of husband 
he was somewhat less exemplar}\ The squaw who 
lived in the lodge with him had been his partner for 

705 many years. She took good care of his children 
and his household concerns. He liked her well 
enough, and, as far as I could see, they never quar- 
relled; but all his warmer affections were reserved 
for younger and more recent favorites. Of these he 

710 had at present only one, who lived in a lodge apart 
from his own. One day while in his camp, he became 
displeased with her, pushed her out, threw after her 



654 THE OREGON TRAIL 

her ornaments, dresses, and everything she had, and 
told her to go home to her father. Having consum- 

7 1 5 mated this summary divorce, for which he could show 
good reasons, he came back, seated himself in his 
usual place, and began to smoke with an air of the ut- 
most tranquillity and self-satisfaction. 

I was sitting in the lodge w^ith him on that very 

720 afternoon, when I felt some curiosity to learn the 
history of the numerous scars that appeared on his 
naked body. Of some of them, however, I did not 
venture to inquire, for I already understood their 
origin. Each of his arms was marked as if deeply 

725 gashed with a knife at regular intervals, and there 
were other scars also, of a different character, on 
his back and on either breast. They were the traces 
of those formidable tortures which these Indians, in 
common with a few other tribes, inflict upon them- 

730 selves at certain seasons; in part, it may be, to gain 
the glory of courage and endurance, but chiefly as 
an act of self-sacrifice to secure the favor of the Great 
Spirit. The scars upon the breast and back were 
produced by running through the flesh strong splints 

735 of wood, to which ponderous buffalo skulls are fas- 
tened by cords of hide, and the wretch runs forward 
with all his strength, assisted by two companions, who 
take hold of each arm, until the flesh tears apart and the 
heav}' loads are left behind. Others of Kongra- 

740 Tonga's scars were the results of accidents; but he 
had many which he received in war. He was one of 
the most noted warriors in the village. In the course 
of his life he had slain, as he boasted to me, fourteen 
men; and though, like other Indians, he was a great 

745 braggart and utterly regardless of truth, yet in this 
statement common report bore him out. Being much 
flattered by my inquiries, he told me tale after tale, true 
or false, of his war-like exploits; and there was one 



THE OREGON TRAIL 255 



among the rest illustrating the worst features of the 
750 Indian character too well for me to omit it. Pointing 
out of the opening of the lodge toward the Medicine- 
Bow Mountains, not many miles distant, he said that 
he was there a few summers ago with a war-party of 
his young men. Here they found two Snake Indians 

755 hunting. They shot one of them with arrows, and 
chased the other up the side of the mountain till they 
surrounded him on a level place, and Kongra-Tonga 
himself jumping forward among the trees, seized him 
by the arm. Two of his young men then ran up and 

760 held him fast while he scalped him ahve. They then 
built a great fire, and cutting the tendons of their cap- 
tive's wrists and feet, threw him in, and held him down 
with long poles until he was burnt to death. He 
garnished his story with a great many descriptive 

765 particulars much too revoking to mention.^ His 
features were remarkably mild and open, without 
the fierceness of expression common among these 
Indians; and as he detailed these devilish cruelties, 
he looked up into my face with the same air of earnest 

7 70 simplicity which a little child would wear in relating 
to its mother some anecdote of its youthful experience. 
Old Mene-Seela's lodge could offer another illus- 
tration of the ferocity of Indian warfare. A bright- 
eyed active little boy was living there. He had be- 

775 longed to a village of the Gros- Ventre Blackfeet, a 
small but bloody and treacherous band, in close 
alliance with the Arapahoes. About a year before, 
Kongra-Tonga and a party of warriors had found 
about twenty lodges of these Indians upon the plains 

780 a little to the eastward of our present camp and 
surrounding them in the night, they butchered men, 
women, and children without mercy, preserving 
only this little boy alive. He was adopted into the 
old man's family, and was now fast becoming iden- 



256 THE OREGON TRAIL 

785tified with the Ogallallah children, among whom he 
mingled on equal terms. There was also a Crow 
warrior in the village a man of gigantic stature and 
most symmetrical proportions. Having been taken 
prisoner many years before and adopted by a squaw 

790 in place of a son whom she had lost, he had forgot- 
ten his old national antipathies, and was now both 
in act and inclinations an Ogallallah. 

It will be remembered that the scheme of the 
grand warlike combination against the Snake and 

79 5 Crow Indians originated in this village; and though 
this plan had fallen to the ground, the embers of 
the martial ardor continued to glow brightly. Eleven 
young men had prepared themselves to go out against 
the enemy. The fourth day of our stay in this camp 

800 was fixed upon for their departure. At the head of 
this party was a well-built, active little Indian, called 
the White Shield, whom I had always noticed for the 
great neatness of his dress and appearance. His lodge, 
too, though not a large one, was the best in the village; 

805 his squaw was one of the prettiest girls, and altogether 
his dwelling presented a complete model of an Ogallallah 
domestic establishment. I was often a visitor there, 
for the White Shield being rather partial to white men, 
used to invite me to continual feasts at all hours of the 

8ioday. Once when the substantial part of the enter- 
tainment was concluded, and he and I were seated 
cross-legged on a buffalo-robe, smoking together very 
amicably, he took down his warlike equipments, 
which were hanging around the lodge, and displayed 

81 5 them with great pride and self-importance. Among 
the rest was a most superb head-dress of feathers. 
Taking this from its case, he put it on and stood 
before me, as if conscious of the gallant air which 
it gave to his dark face and his vigorous graceful 

820 figure. He told me that upon it were the feathers 



THE OREGON TRAIL 257 

of three war-eagles, equal in value to the same number 
of good horses. He took up also a shield gayly painted 
and hung with feathers. The effect of these barbaric 
ornaments was admirable, for they were arranged 

825 with no little skill and taste. His quiver was made 
of the spotted skin of a small panther, such as are com- 
mon among the Black Hills, from which the tail and 
distended claws wxre still allowed to hang. The White 
Shield concluded his entertainment in a manner char- 
ts 3 o act eristic of an Indian. He begged of me a little powd er 
and ball, for he had a gun as well as bow and arrows; 
but this I was obliged to refuse, because I had scarcely 
enough for my own use. Making him, however, a 
parting present of a paper of vermilion, I left him 

835 apparently quite contented. 

Unhappily, on the next morning the White Shield 
took cold, and was attacked with a violent inflam- 
mation of the throat. Immediately he seemed to 
lose all spirit, and though before no warrior in the 

840 village had borne himself more proudly, he now 
moped about from lodge to lodge with a forlorn and 
dejected air. At length he came and sat down, closely 
wrapped in his robe, before the lodge of Reynal, but 
when he found that neither he nor I knew how to re- 

84 5lieve him, he arose and stalked over to one of the 
medicine-men of the village. This old imposter 
thumped him for some time with both fists, howled 
and yelped over him, and beat a drum close to his ear 
to expel the evil spirit that had taken possession of 

850 him. This vigorous treatment failing of the desired 
effect, the White Shield withdrew to his own lodge, 
where he lay disconsolate for some hours. Making 
his appearance once more in the afternoon, he again 
took his seat on the ground before Reynal's lodge 

85 5 holding his throat with his hand. For some time 
he sat perfectly silent with his eyes fixed mournfully 



258 THE OREGON TRAIL 

on the ground. At last he began to speak in a low 
tone. 

''I am a brave man," he said; ^'all the young 

860 men think me a great warrior, and ten of them are 
ready to go with me to the war. I will go and show 
them the enemy. Last summer the Snakes killed 
my brother. I cannot live unless I revenge his death. 
To-morrow we will set out and I will take their scalps." 

865 The White Sheild, as he expressed this resolution, 

seemed to have lost all the accustomed fire and spirit of 

his look, and hung his head as if in a fit of despondency. 

As I was sitting that evening at one of the fires, I 

saw him arrayed in his splendid war-dress, his cheeks 

870 painted with vermilion, leading his favorite war-horse 
to the front of his lodge. He mounted and rode around 
the village, singing his war-song in a loud hoarse voice 
amid the -shrill acclamations of the women. Then 
dismounting, he remained for some minutes prostrate 

875 upon the ground, as if in an act of supplication. On 
the following morning I looked in vain for the departure 
of the warriors. All was quiet in the village until late 
in the forenoon, when the White Shield issuing from 
his lodge, came and seated himself in his old place be- 

880 fore us. Reynal asked him why he had not gone out 
to find the enemy! 

"I cannot go," answered the White Shield in a 
dejected voice. "I have given my war-arrows to the 
Meneaska. " 

885 ''You have only given him two of your arrows," 
said Reynal. ''If you ask him, he will give them 
back again." 

For some time the White Shield said nothing. 
At last he spoke in a gloomy tone: 

890 "One of my young men has had bad dreams. 
The spirits of the dead came and threw stones at 
him in his sleep." 



THE OREGON TRAIL 259 

If such a dream had actually taken place it might 
have broken up this, or any other war-party, but 

895 both Reynal and I were convinced at the time that it 
was a mere fabrication to excuse his remaining at 
home. 

The White Shield was a warrior of noted prowess. 
Very probably he would have received a mortal wound 

900 without the show of pain, and endured without flinch- 
ing the worst tortures that an enemy could inflict 
upon him. The whole power of an Indian's nature 
would be summoned to encounter such a trial; every 
influence of his education from childhood would have 

905 prepared him for it; the cause of his suffering would 
have been visibly and palpably before him, and his 
spirit would rise to set his enemy at defiance, and gain 
the highest glory of a warrior by meeting death with 
fortitude. But when he feels himself attacked by a 

910 mysterious evil, before whose insidious assaults his 
manhood is wasted, and his strength drained away, 
vv^hen he can see no enemy to resist and defy, the boldest 
warrior falls prostrate at once. He believes that a 
bad spirit has taken possession of him or that he is the 

915 victim of some charm. When suffering from a pro- 
tracted disorder an Indian will often abandon himself 
to his supposed destiny, pine away and die, the victim 
of his own imagination. The same effect will often 
follow from a series of calamities, or a long run of 

920 ill success, and the sufferer has been known to ride 
into the midst of an enemy's camp, or attack a grizzly 
bear single-handed, to get rid of a life which he sup- 
posed to lie under the doom of misfortune. 

Thus after all his fasting, dreaming, and calling 
925 upon the Great Spirit, the White Shield's war-party 
was pitifully broken up. 



CHAPTER XVI 

THE TRAPPERS 

"Ours the wild life, in tumult still to range, 
From toil to rest, and joy in every change; 
The exulting sense, the pulse's maddening play, 
That thrills the wanderer of the trackless way; 
5 That for itself can woo the approaching fight, 

And turn what some deem danger to delight: 
Come when it will, we snatch the life of life; 
When lost, what recks it by disease or strife?" 

— The Corsair 

lo In speaking of the Indians, I have almost forgot- 
ten two bold adventurers of another race, the trap- 
pers Rouleau and Saraphin. These men v^ere bent 
on a most hazardous enterprise. A day's journey 
to the westward was the country over which the 

1 5 Arapahoes are accustomed to range, and for which 
the two trappers were on the point of setting out. 
These Arapahoes, of whom Shaw and I afterward 
fell in with a large village, are ferocious barbarians 
of a most brutal and wolfish aspect; and of late 

20 they had declared themselves enemies to the whites, 
and threatened death to the first who should venture 
within their territory. The occasion of the declara- 
tion was as follows : 

In the previous spring, 1845, Col. Kearney left 

25 Fort Leavenworth with several companies of dra- 
goons, and marching with extraordinary celerity, 
reached Fort Laramie, whence he passed along the 
foot of the mountains to Bent's Fort, and then, turn- 
ing eastward again, returned to the point from whence 

30 he set out. While at Fort Laramie he sent a part of 
his command as far westward as Sweetwater, while he 
260 



THE OREGON TRAIL 261 

himself remained at the fort, and dispatched messages 
to the surrounding Indians to meet him there in council. 
Then for the first time the tribes of that vicinity saw 

3 5 the white warriors, and, as might have been expected, 
they were lost in astonishment at their regular order, 
their gay attire, the completeness of their martial equip- 
ment, and the great size and power of their horses. 
Among the rest, the Arapahoes came in considerable 

40 numbers to the fort. They had lately committed nu- 
merous acts of outrage, and Col. Kearney threatened 
that if they killed any more white men he would turn 
loose his dragoons upon them, and annihilate their 
whole nation. In the evening, to add effect to his speech, 

4 5 he ordered a howitzer to be fired and a rocket to be 
thrown up. Many of the Arapahoes fell prostrate on 
the ground, while others ran away screaming with 
amazement and terror. On the following day they 
withdrew to their mountains, confounded with awe 

5 oat the appearance of the dragoons, at their big gun 
which went off twice at one shot, and the fiery messen- 
ger which they had sent up to the Great Spirit. For 
many months they remained quiet, and did no farther 
mischief. At length, just before we came into the 

55 country, one of them, by an act of the basest treachery, 
killed two white men. Boot and May, who were trapping 
among the mountains. For this act it was impossi- 
ble to discover a motive. It seemed to spring from 
one of those inexphcable impulses which often actuate 

60 Indians, and appear no better than the mere outbreaks 
of native ferocity. No sooner was the murder com- 
mitted than the whole tribe were in extreme consterna- 
tion. They expected every day that the avenging 
dragoons would arrive, little thinking that a desert 

6 5 of nine hundred miles in extent lay between the latter 
and their mountain fastnesses. A large deputation 
of them came to Fort Laramie, bringing a valuable 



262 THE OREGON TRAIL 

present of horses, in compensation for the hves of the 
murdered men. These Bordeaux refused to accept. 

70 They then asked him if he would be satisfied with their 
dehvering up the murderer himself; but he declined 
this offer also. The Arapahoes went back more terri- 
fied than ever. Weeks passed away, and still no 
dragoons appeared. A result followed which all those 

7 5 best acquainted with Indians had predicted. They 
conceived that fear had prevented Bordeaux from 
accepting their gifts, and that they had nothing to 
apprehend from the vengeance of the whites. From 
terror they rose to the height of insolence and presump- 

Sotion They called the white men cowards and old 
women; and a friendly Dahcotah came to Fort Lara- 
mie and reported that they were determined to kill the 
first of the white dogs whom they could lay hands on. 
Had a military officer, intrusted with suitable 

85 powers, been stationed at Fort Laramie, and having 
accepted the offer of the Arapahoes to deliver up 
the murderer, had ordered him to be immediately 
led out and shot, in presence of his tribe, they would 
have been awed into tranquillity, and much danger 

90 and calamity averted; but now the neighborhood 
of the Medicine-Bow Mountain and the region beyond, 
it was a scene of extreme peril. Old Mene-Seela, a 
true friend of the whites, and many other of the In- 
dians, gathered about the two trappers, and vainly en- 

9 5 deavored to turn them from their purpose ; but Rouleau 
and Saraphin only laughed at the danger. On the 
morning preceding that on which they were to leave the 
camp, we could all discern faint white columns of smoke 
rising against the dark base of the Medicine-Bow. 
100 Scouts were out immediately and reported that these 
proceeded from an Arapahoe camp, abandoned only a 
few hours before. Still the two trappers continued 
their preparations for departure. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 263 

Saraphin was a tall, powerful fellow, with a sullen 

105 and sinister countenance. His rifle had very prob- 
ably drawn other blood than that of buffalo or even 
Indians. Rouleau had a broad, ruddy face, marked 
with as few traces of thought or of care as a child's. 
His figure was remarkably square and strong, but 

1 10 the first joints of both his feet were frozen off, and 
his horse had lately thrown and trampled upon him, 
by which he had been severely injured in the chest. 
But nothing could check his inveterate propensity 
for laughter and gayety. He went all day rolling 

1 15 about the camp on his stumps of feet, talking and 
singing and frolicking with the Indian women as 
they were engaged at their work. In fact, Rouleau 
had an unlucky partiality for squaws. He always 
had one, whom he must needs bedizen with beads, 

1 20 ribbons, and all the finery of an Indian wardrobe; 
and though he was, of course, obliged to leave her 
behind him during his expeditions, yet this hazard- 
ous necessity did not at all trouble him, for his dis- 
position was the very reverse of jealous. If at any 

i2 5"time he had not lavished the whole of the precarious 
profits of his vocation upon his dark favorite, he 
always devoted the rest to feasting his comrades. 
If liquor was not to be had — and this was usually 
the case — strong coffee would be substituted. As 

1 30 the men of that region are by no meaift remark- 
able for providence or self-restraint, whatever was 
set before them on these occasions, however ex- 
travagant in price or enormous in quantity, was 
sure to be disposed of at one sitting. Like other 

1 35 trappers, Rouleau's life was one of contrast and 
variety. It was only at certain seasons, and for a 
limited time, that he was absent on his expeditions. 
For the rest of the year he would be lounging about 
the fort, or encamped with his friends in its vicinity, 



264 THE OREGON TRAIL 

1 40 lazily hunting or enjoying all the luxury of inaction; 
but when once in pursuit of the beaver, he was in- 
volved in extreme privations and desperate perils. 
When in the midst of his game and his enemies, hand 
and foot, eye and ear, are incessantly active. Fre- 

MSquently he must content himself with devouring 
his evening meal uncooked, lest the light of his fire 
should attract the eyes of some wandering Indian; 
and sometimes having made his rude repast, he must 
leave his fire still blazing, and withdraw to a distance 

1 50 under cover of the darkness, that his disappointed 
enemy, drawn thither by the light, may find his victim 
gone, and be unable to trace his footsteps in the gloom. 
This is the life led by scores of men in the Rocky 
Mountains and their vicinity. I once met a trapper 

1 55 whose breast was marked with the scars of six bullets 
and arrows, one of his arms broken by a shot, and one 
of his knees shattered; yet still, with the undaunted 
mettle of New England, from which part of the country 
he had come, he continued to follow his perilous 

1 60 occupation. To some of the children of cities it may 
seem strange that men with no object in view should 
continue to follow a life of such hardship and desperate 
adventure, yet there is a mysterious, resistless charm 
in the basilisk eye of danger, and few men perhaps 

165 remain long in that wild region without learning to 
love periLfor its own sake, and to laugh carelessly in 
the face of death. 

On the last day of our stay in this camp the trap- 
pers were ready for departure. When in the Black 

1 70 Hills they had caught seven beaver, and they now 
left their skins in charge of Reynal, to be kept until 
their return. Their strong, gaunt horses, were equipped 
with rusty Spanish bits and rude Mexican saddles 
to which wooden stirrups were attached, while a buffalo- 

1 75 robe was rolled up behind them, and a bundle of beaver 



THE OREGON TRAIL 265 

traps slung at the pommel. These together with 
their rifles, their knives, their powder-horns and bullet- 
pouches, flint and steel, and a tin cup, composed their 
whole travelling equipment. They shook hands with 

1 80 us and rode away ; Saraphin, with his grim countenance, 
like a surly bull-dog's, was in advance; but Rouleau, 
clambering gayly into his seat kicked his horses 
sides, flourished his whip in the air, and trotted bnskly 
over the prairie, trolling forth a Canadian song at 

: 85 the top of his lungs. Reynal looked after them with 
his face of brutal selfishness. 

"Well" he said, "if they are killed, I shall have 
the beaver. They'll fetch me fifty dollars at the fort, 

anyhow." 
iQo This was the last I saw of them. 

We had been for five days in the hunting camp, 
and the meat, which all this time had hung drying 
in the sun, was now fit for transportation. Buttalo- 
hides also had been procured in sufficient quantities 
19 5 for making the next season's lodges; but it remained 
to provide the long slender poles on which they were 
to be supported. These were only to be had among 
the tall pine woods of the Black Hills, and in that 
direction, therefore, our next move was to be made. 
200 It is worthy of notice that amid the general abundance 
which during this time had prevailed in the camp, 
there were no instances of individual pnvation; for 
although the hide and the tongue of the buffalo belong 
by exclusive right to the hunter who has kiM it, yet 
.05 anyone else is equally entitled to help himself from the 
rest of the carcass. Thus the weak, the aged, arid even 
the indolent come in for a share of the spoils, and many 
a helpless old woman, who would otherwise perish 
from starvation, is sustained in profuse abundance. 

On the twenty-fifth of July, late in the afternoon, 
the camp broke up, with the usual tumuh and con- 



2 I O 



266 THE OREGON TRAIL 

fusion, and we were all moving once more, on horse- 
back and on foot, over the plains. We advanced, 
however, but a few miles. The old men, who during 

215 the whole march had been stoutly striding along on 
foot in front of the people, now -seated themselves in a 
circle on the ground; while all the families erecting 
their lodges in the prescribed order around them, 
formed the usual great circle of the camp; meanwhile 

2 20 these village patriarchs sat smoking and talking. I 
threw my bridle to Raymond, and sat down as usual 
along with them. There was none of that reserve and 
apparent dignity which an Indian always assumes when 
in council, or in the presence of white men whom he dis- 

225 trusts. The party on the contrary, was an extremely 
merry one, and as in a social circle of a quite different 
character, ^'if there was not much wit, there was at 
least a great deal of laughter." 

When the first pipe was smoked out, I rose and 

230 withdrew to the lodge of my host. Here I was stoop- 
ing, in the act of taking off my powder-horn and bullet- 
pouch, when suddenly, and close at hand, pealing 
loud and shrill, and in right good earnest, came the 
terrific yell of the war-whoop. Kongra-Tonga's squaw 

235 snatched up her youngest child, and ran out of the lodge. 
I followed, and found the whole village in confusion, 
resounding with cries and yells. The circle of old 
men in the centre had vanished. The warriors with 
glittering eyes came darting, their weapons in their 

240 hands, out of the low openings of the lodges, and run- 
ning with wild yells toward the farther end of the 
village. Advancing a few rods in that direction, I 
saw a crowd in furious agitation, while others ran up 
on every side to add to the confusion. Just then I dis- 

245 tinguished the voices of Raymond and Reynal, shouting 
to me from a distance, and looking back I saw the latter 
with his rifle in his hand, standing on the farther 



THE OREGON TRAIL 267 

bank of a little stream that ran along the outskirts 
of the camp. He was calling to Raymond and myself 

250 to come over and join him, and Raymond, with his 
usual deliberate gait and stolid countenance, was al- 
ready moving in that direction. 

This was clearly the wisest course, unless we wished 
to involve ourselves in the fray; so I turned to go, but 

255 just then a pair of eyes, gleaming like a snake's, and an 
aged familiar countenance was thrust from the opening 
of a neighboring lodge, and out bolted old Mene-Seela, 
full of fight, clutching his bow and arrows in one hand 
and his knife in the other. At that instant he tripped 

2 60 and fell sprawling on his face, while his weapons flew 
scattering away in every direction. The women, with 
loud screams, were hurrying with their children in their 
arms to place them out of danger, and I observed 
some hastening to prevent mischief by carrying away 

265 all the weapons they could lay hands on. On a rising 
ground close to the camp stood a line of old women 
singing a medicine-song to allay the tumult. As I 
approached the side of the brook, I heard gun-shots 
behind me, and turning back, I saw that the crowd 

2 70 had separated into two long lines of naked warriors 
confronting each other at a respectful distance, and 
yelling and jumping about to dodge the shot of their 
adversaries, while they discharged bullets and arrows 
against each other. At the same time certain sharp, 

2 75 humming sounds in the air over my head, like the flight 
of beetles on a summer evening, warned me that the 
danger was not wholly confined to the immediate scene 
of the fray. So, wading through the brook, I joined 
Reynal and Raymond, and we sat down on the grass, 

280 in the posture of an armed neutrality, to watch the 
result. 

Happily it may be for ourselves, though quite 
contrary to our expectation, the disturbance was 



268 THE OREGON TRAIL 

quelled almost as soon as it had commenced. When 

285 I looked again, the combatants were once more mingled 
together in a mass. Though yells sounded occasionally 
from the throng, the firing had entirely ceased, and I 
observed five or six persons moving busily about, as if 
acting the part of peace-makers. One of the village 

290 heralds or criers proclaimed in a loud voice something 
v^hich my two companions were too much engrossed 
in their own observations to translate for me. The 
crowd began to disperse, though many a deep-set black 
eye still glittered with an unnatural lustre, as the 

295 warriors slowly withdrew to their lodges. This fortu- 
nate suppression of the disturbance was owing to a few 
of the old men less pugnacious than Mene-Seela, who 
boldly ran in between the combatants, and, aided by 
some of the "soldiers," or Indian police, succeeded in 

300 effecting their object. 

It seemed very strange to me that although many 
arrows and bullets were discharged, no one was 
mortally hurt, and I could only account for this by 
the fact that both the marksman and the object of 

305 his aim were leaping about incessantly during the 
whole time. By far the greater part of the villagers 
had joined in the fray, for although there were not 
more than a dozen guns in the whole camp, I heard 
at least eight or ten shots fired. 

310 In a quarter of an hour all was comparatively 
quiet. A large circle of w^arriors was again seated 
in the centre of the village, but this time I did not 
venture to join them, because I could see that the 
pipe, contrary to the usual order, was passing from 

3r5the left hand to the right around the circle; a sure 
sign that a ''medicine-smoke" of reconcihation was 
going forward, and that a white man would be an 
unwelcome intruder. When I again entered the 
still agitated camp it was nearly dark, and mournful 



THE OREGON TRAIL 269 

3 20 cries, howls, and wailings resounded from many 
female voices. Whether these had any connection 
with the late disturbance, or were merely lamenta- 
tions for relatives slain in some former war expedi- 
tions, I could not distinctly ascertain. 
325 To inquire too closely into the cause of the quarrel 
was by no means prudent, and it w^as not until some 
time after that I discovered what had given rise to 
it. Among the Dahcotah there are many associa- 
tions, or fraternities, connected with the purposes 
330 of their superstitions, their warfare, or their social 
life. There was one called "The Arrow-Breakers," 
now in a great measure disbanded and dispersed. 
In the village there were, however, four men be- 
longing to it, distinguished by the peculiar arrange- 
33 5ment of their hair, which rose in a high bristling 
mass above their foreheads, adding greatly to their 
apparent height, and giving them a most ferocious 
appearance. The principal among them was the 
Mad Wolf, a warrior of remarkable size and strength, 
340 great courage, and the fierceness of a demon. I 
had always looked upon him as the most dangerous 
man in the village; and though he often invited me 
to feasts, I never entered his lodge unarmed. The 
Mad Wolf had taken a fancy to a fine horse belonging 
345 to another Indian, who was called the Tall Bear; and 
anxious to get the animal into his possession, he made 
the owner a present of another horse nearly equal in 
value. According to the customs of the Dahcotah, the 
acceptance of this gift involved a sort of obligation to 
350 make an equitable return; and the Tall Bear well 
understood that the other had in view the obtaining of 
his favorite buffalo-horse. He, however, accepted 
the present without a word of thanks, and having 
picketed the horse before his lodge he suffered day 
35 5 after day to pass without making the expected return. 



270 THE OREGON TRAIL 

The Mad Wolf grew impatient and angry; and at 
last, seeing that his bounty was not Hkely to reproduce 
the desired return, he resolved to reclaim it. So this 
evening, as soon as the village was encamped, he went 

3 60 to the lodge of the Tall Bear, seized upon the horse that 
he had given him and led him away. At this the 
Tall Bear broke into one of those fits of sullen rage 
not uncommon among the Indians. He ran up to 
the unfortunate horse, and gave him three mortal 

365 stabs with his knife. Quick as lightning the Mad 
Wolf drew his bow to its utmost tension, and held 
the arrow quivering close to the breast of his adver- 
sary. The Tall Bear, as the Indians who were near 
him said, stood with his bloody knife in his hand, 

3 70 facing the assailant with the utmost calmness. Some 
of his friends and relatives, seeing his danger, ran 
hastily to his assistance. The remaining three Arrow- 
Breakers, on the other hand, came to the aid of their 
associate. Many of their friends joined them, the 

375 war-cry was raised on a sudden, and the tumult became 
general. 

The "soldiers" who lent their timely aid in put- 
ting it down, are by far the most important executive 
functionaries in an Indian village. The office is 

380 one of considerable honor, being confided only to men 
of courage and repute. They derive their authority 
from the old men and chief warriors of the village, 
who elect them in councils occasionally convened for 
the purpose, and thus can exercise a degree of authority 

385 which no one else in the village would dare to assume. 
While very few Ogallallah chiefs could venture without 
instant jeopardy of their lives to strike or lay hands 
upon the meanest of their people, the "soldiers," in 
the discharge of their appropriate functions, have full 

390 license to make use of these and similar acts of coercion. 



CHAPTER XVII 



THE BLACK HILLS 



"To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, 
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene. 
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, 
And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been; 
5 To climb the trackless mountain all unseen. 

With the wild flock that never needs a fold; 
Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean; 
This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold 
Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores 
unrolled." — Childe Harold 
lo We travelled eastward for two days, and then the 
gloomy ridges of the black Hills rose up before us. 
The village passed along for some miles beneath 
their declivities, traiHng out to a great length over 
the arid prairie, or winding at times among small 
IS detached hills of distorted shapes. Turning sharply 
to the left, we entered a wide defile of the moun- 
tains, down the bottom of which a brook came winding, 
lined with tall grass and dense copses, amid which 
were hidden many beaver-dams and lodges. We passed 
20 along between two lines of high precipices and rocks, 
piled in utter disorder one upon another, and with 
scarcelv a tree, a bush, or a clump of grass to veil their 
nakedness. The restless Indian boys were wandering 
along their edges and clambering up and down their 
2 5 rugged sides, and sometimes a group of them would 
stand on the verge of a cliff and look down on the array 
as it passed in review beneath them. As we ad- 
vanced, the passage grew more narrow; then it sud- 
denly expanded into a round grassy meadow, com- 

271 



272 THE OREGON TRAIL 

3opletely encompassed by mountains; and here the 
families stopped as they came up in turn, and the camp 
rose like magic. 

The lodges were hardly erected when, with their 
usual precipitation, the Indians set about accom- 

35plishing the object that had brought them there; 
that is, the obtaining poles for supporting their new 
lodges. Half the population, men, women, and boys, 
mounted their horses and set out for the interior of 
the mountains. As they rode at full gallop over the 

40 shingly rocks and into the dark opening of the defile 
beyond, I thought I had never read or dreamed of a 
more strange or picturesque cavalcade. We passed 
between precipices more than a thousand feet high, 
sharp and splintering at the tops, their sides beetling 

45 over the defile or descending in abrupt declivities, 
bristling with black fir trees. On our left they rose 
close to us like a wall, but on the right a winding 
brook with a narrow strip of marshy soil intervened. 
The stream was clogged with old beaver-dams and 

50 spread frequently into wide pools. There were thick 
bushes and many dead and blasted trees along its 
course, though frequently nothing remained but 
stumps cut close to the ground by the beaver, and 
marked with the sharp chisel-like teeth of those 

5 S indefatigable laborers. Sometimes we were diving 
among trees, and then emerging upon open spots, 
over which, Indian-like, all galloped at full speed. 
As Pauline bounded over the rocks I felt her saddle- 
girth slipping, and alighted to draw it tighter; when 

60 the whole array swept past me in a moment, the 
women with their gaudy ornaments tinkling as they 
rode, the men whooping and laughing and lash- 
ing forward their horses. Two black-tailed deer 
bounded away among the rocks; Raymond shot at 

6 5 them from horseback; the sharp report of his rifle 



THE OREGON TRAIL 273 

was answered by another equally sharp from the 
opposing cliffs, and then the echoes, leaping in rapid 
succession from side to side, died away, rattling far 
amid the mountains. 

70 After having ridden in this manner for six or eight 
miles, the appearance of the scene began to change, 
and all the declivities around us were covered with 
forests of tall, slender pine trees. The Indians be- 
gan to fall off to the right and left, and dispersed 

75 with their hatchets and knives among these woods, 
to cut the poles which they had come to seek. Soon 
I was left almost alone; but in the deep stillness of 
those lonely mountains the stroke of hatchets and 
the sound of voices might be heard from far and near. 

80 Reynal, who imitated the Indians in their habits 
as well as the worst features of their character, had 
killed buffalo enough to make a lodge for himself 
and his squaw, and now he was eager to get the poles 
necessary to complete it. He asked me to let Ray- 

85 mond go with him and assist in the work. I asse ted, 
and the two men immediately entered the thickest 
part of the wood. Having left my horse in Raymond's 
keeping, I began to climb the mountain. I was weak 
and weary, and made slow progress, often pausing to 

90 rest, but after an hour had elapsed, I gained a height, 

whence the little valley out of which I had climbed 

seemed like a deep, dark gulf, though the inaccessible 

peak of the mountain was still towering to a much greater 

distance above. Objects familiar from childhood sur- 

95 rounded me; crags and rocks, a black and sullen brook 
that gurgled with a hollow voicedeep among the crevices, 
a wood of mossy, distorted trees and prostrate trunks 
flung down by age and storms, scattered among the 
rocks or damming the foaming waters of the little 
100 brook. The objects were the same, yet they were 
thrown into a wilder and more startling scene, for the 



274 THE OREGON TRAIL 

black crags and the savage trees assumed a grim and 
threatening aspect, and close across the valley the op- 
posing mountain confronted me, rising from the gulf 

105 for thousands of feet, with its bare pinnacles and its 
ragged covering of pines. Yet the scene was not with- 
out its milder features. As I ascended, I found fre- 
quent little grassy terraces, and there was one of these 
close at hand, across which the brook was stealing, 

1 10 beneath the shade of scattered trees that seemed arti- 
ficially planted. Here I made a welcome discovery, no 
other than a bed of strawberries, with their white flow- 
ers and their red fruit, closely nestled among the 
grass by the side of the brook, and I sat down by 

1 15 them, hailing them as old acquaintances; for among 
those lonely and perilous mountains, they awakened 
delicious associations of the gardens and peaceful 
homes of far-distant New England. 

Yet, wild as they were, these mountains were 

1 20 thickly peopled. As I cHmbed farther, I found the 
broad dusty paths made by the elk, as they filed across 
the mountain side. The grass on all the terraces was 
trampled down by deer; there were numerous tracks 
of wolves, and in some of the rougher and more 

1 25 precipitous parts of the ascent, I found footprints 
different from any that I had ever seen, and which I 
took to be those of the Rocky Mountain sheep. I sat 
down upon a rock; there was a perfect stillness. No 
wind was stirring, and not even an insect could be heard. 

1 30 1 recollected the danger of becoming lost in such a 
place, and therefore I fixed my eye upon one of the 
tallest pinnacles of the opposite mountain. It rose 
sheer upright from the woods below, and by an ex- 
traordinary freak of nature, sustained aloft on its very 

1 35 summit a large loose rock. Such a landmark could 
never be mistaken, and feeling once more secure, I 
began again to move forward. A white wolf jumped 



THE OREGON TRAIL 275 

up from among some bushes, and leaped clumsily 
away; but he stopped for a moment, and turned 

1 40 back his keen eye and his grim bristling muzzle. I 
longed to take his scalp and carry it back with me, 
as an appropriate trophy of the Black Hills, but be- 
fore I could fire, he was gone among the rocks. Soon 
after I heard a rustling sound, with a cracking of 

145 twigs at a little distance, and saw moving above the 
tall bushes the branching antlers of an elk. I was 
in the midst of a hunter's paradise. 

Such are the Black Hills as I found them in July; 
but they wear a different garb when winter sets in, 

1 50 when the broad boughs of the fir tree are bent to the 
ground by the load of snow, and the dark mountains 
are whitened with it. At that season the mountain- 
t-appers, returned from their autumn expeditions, 
often build their rude cabins in the midst of these 

155 solitudes, and live in abundance and luxury on the 
game that harbors there. I have heard them relate 
how, with their tawny mistresses, and perhaps a few 
young Indian companions, they have spent months in 
total seclusion. They would dig pitfalls, and set traps 

1 60 for the white wolves, the sables, and the martens, and 
though through the whole night the awful chorus of 
the wolves would resound from the frozen mountains 
around them, yet within their massive walls of logs 
they would lie in careless ease and comfort before the 

1 65 blazing fire, and in the morning shoot the elk and the 
deer from their very door. 



CHAPTER XVIII 



A MOUNTAIN HUNT 



"Come, shall we go and kill us venison? 
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools, 
Being native burghers of this desert city. 
Should in their own confines, with forked heads, 
5 Have their round haunches gored. " — As You Like It 

The camp was full of the newly cut lodge-poles; 
some, already prepared, were stacked together, 
white and glistening to dry and harden in the sun; 
others were lying on the ground, and the squaws, 

lothe boys, and even some of the warriors, were busily 
at work peeling off the bark and paring them with 
their knives to the proper dimensions. Most of the 
hides obtained at the last camp were dressed and 
scraped thin enough for use, and many of the squaws 

i5were engaged in fitting them together and sewing them 
with sinews, to form the coverings for the lodges. Men 
were wandering among the bushes that lined the brook 
along the margin of the camp, cutting sticks of red 
willow, or shongsasha the bark of which, mixed with 

2otobacco, they use for smoking. Reynal's squaw was 
hard at work with her awl and buffalo-sinews upon her 
lodge, while her proprietor, having just finished an 
enormous breakfast of meat, was smoking a social 
pipe along with Raymond and myself. He proposed 

2 5at length that we should go out on a hunt. "Go to 
the Big Crow's lodge," said he, "and get your rifle. 
I'll bet the gray Wyandot pony against your mare 
tha we start an e'k or a black-tailed deer, or likely 
as not, a big-horn, before we are two miles out of camp. 
276 



THE OREGON TRAIL 277 

30 I'll take my squaw's old yellow horse; you can't whip 
her more than four miles an hour, but she is as good for 
the mountains as a mule." 

I mounted the l)lack mule which Raymond usually 
rode. She was a very fine and powerful animal, 

3 5 gentle and manageable enough by nature; but of 
late her temper had been soured by misfortune. 
About a week before I had chanced to offend some 
one of the Indians, who, out of revenge, went se- 
cretly into the meadows and gave her a severe stab 

40 in the haunch with his knife. The wound, though 
partially healed, still galled her extremely, and made 
her even more perverse and obstinate than the rest of 
her species. 

The morning was a glorious one, and I was in 

4 5 better health than I had been at any time for the last 

two months. Though a strong frame and well- 
compacted sinew^s had borne me through hitherto, it 
was long since I had been in a condition to feel the 
exhilaration of the fresh mountain- wind and the gay 
50 sunshine that brightened the crags and trees. We 
left the little valley and ascended a rocky hollow in 
the mountain. Very soon we were out of sight of 
the camp, and of every living thing, man, beast, 
bird, or insect. I had never before, except on foot, 

5 5 passed over such execrable ground, and I desire 

never to repeat the experiment. The black mule 
grew indignant, and even the redoubtable yellow 
horse stumbled every moment, and kept groaning 
to himself as he cut his feet and legs among the sharp 

60 rocks. 

It was a scene of silence and desolation. Tittle 
was visible except beetling crags and the bare shingly 
sides of the mountains, reheved by scarcely a trace 
of vegetation At length, however, we came upon a 

65 forest tract, and had no sooner done so than we heartily 



278 THE OREGON TRAIL 

wished ourselves back among the rocks again; for 
we were on a steep descent, among trees so thick that 
we could see scarcely a rod in any direction. 

If one is anxious to place himself in a situation 

70 where the hazardous and the ludicrous are combined 
in about equal proportions, let him get upon a vicious 
mule, with a snaffle-bit, and try to drive her through 
the woods down a slope of forty-five degrees. Let him 
have a long rifle, a buckskin frock with long fringes, 

7 5 and a head of long hair. These latter appendages 
will be caught every moment and twitched away in 
small portions by the twigs, which will also whip him 
smartly across the face, while the large branches 
above thump him on the head. His mule, if she be 

80 a true one, will alternately stop short and dive violently 
forward, and his positions upon her back will be some- 
what diversified and extraordinary. At one time he 
will clasp her affectionately to avoid the blow of a 
bough overhead; at another he will throw himself 

85 back and fling his knee forward against the side of her 
neck, to keep it from being crushed between the rough 
bark of a tree and the equally unyielding ribs of the 
animal herself. Reynal was cursing incessantly during 
the whole way down. Neither of us had the remotest 

90 idea where we were going; and though I have seen 
rough riding, I shall always retain an evil recollection 
of that five minutes' scramble. 

At last we left our troubles behind us, emerging 
into the channel of a brook that circled along the 

9 5 foot of the descent; and here, turning joyfully to 
the left, we rode in luxury and ease over the white 
pebbles and the rippling water, shaded from the 
glaring sun by an overarching green transparency. 
These halcyon moments were of short duration. The 
J 00 friendly brook, turning sharply to one side, went brawl- 
ing and foaming down the rocky hill into an abyss, 



THE OREGON .TRAIL 279 

which, as far as we could discern, had no bottom ; so 
once more we betook ourselves to the detested woods. 
When next we came forth from their dancing shadow 

105 and sunlight, we found ourselves standing in the broad 
glare of day, on a high jutting point of the mountain. 
Before us stretched a long, wide, desert valley, winding 
away far amid the mountains. No civilized eye but 
mine had ever looked upon that virgin waste. Reynal 

1 10 was gazing intently ; he began to speak at last : 

"Many a time, when I was with the Indians, I 
have been hunting for gold all through the Black 
Hills. There's plenty of it here; you may be certain 
of that. I have dreamed about it fifty times, and 

1 1 5 1 never dreamed yet but what it came out true. Look 
over yonder at those black rocks piled up against that 
other big rock. Don't it look as if there might be some- 
thing there? It wont do for a white man to be rum- 
maging too much about these mountains; the Indians 

1 20 say they are full of bad spirits; and I believe myself 
that it's no good luck to be hunting about here after 
gold. Well, for all that, I would like to have one of 
these fellows up here from down below, to go about 
with his witch-hazel rod, and I'll guarantee that it 

1 25 would not be long before he would light on a gold- 
mine. Never mind; we'll let the gold alone for to- 
day. Look at those trees down below us in the hollow ; 
we'll go down there, and I reckon we 11 get a black- 
tailed deer." 

130 But Reynal's predictions were not verified. We 
passed mountain after mountain, and valley after val- 
ley; we explored deep ravines; yet still to my com- 
panion's vexation and evident surprise, no game 
could be found. So, in the absence of better, we 

1 35 resolved to go out on the plains and look for an ante- 
lope. With this view we began to pass down a narrow 
valley, the bottom of which was covered with the stiff 



28o THE OREGON TRAIL 

wild -sage bushes, and marked with deep paths made 
by the buffalo, who, for some inexplicable reason, 

1 40 are accustomed to penetrate, in their long grave pro- 
cessions, deep among the gorges of these sterile moun- 
tains. 

Reynal's eye was ranging incessantly among the 
rocks and along the edges of the black precipices 

1 45 in hopes of discovering the mountain-sheep peering 
down upon us in fancied security from that giddy 
elevation. Nothing was visible for some time. At 
length we both detected something in motion near 
the foot of one of the mountains, and in a moment 

150 afterward a black-tailed deer, with his spreading 
antlers, stood gazing at us from the top of a rock, 
and then, slowly turning away, disappeared behind 
it. In an instant Reynal was out of his saddle, and 
running toward the spot. I being too weak to follow, 

155 sat holding his horse and waiting the result. I lost 
sight of him, then heard the report of his rifle deadened 
among the rocks, and finally saw him reappear, with 
a surly look, that plainly betrayed his ill success. 
Again we moved forward down the long valley, when 

1 60 soon after we came full upon what seemed a wide and 
very shallow ditch, incrusted at the bottom with white 
clay, dried and cracked in the sun. Under this fair 
outside, Reynal's eye detected the signs of lurking 
mischief. He called me to stop, and then alighting, 

165 picked up a stone and threw it into the ditch. To my 
utter amazement it fell with a dull splash, breaking at 
once through the thin crust, and spattering round 
the hole a yellowish creamy fluid, into which it sank 
and disappeared . A stick, five or six feet long, lay on 

1 70 the ground, and with this we sounded the insidious 
abyss close to its edge. It was just possible to touch 
the bottom. Places like this are numerous among the 
Rockv Mountains. The buftalo, in his blind and 



THE OREGON TRAIL 2S1 

heedless walk, often plunges into them unawares. 

1 75 Down he sinks; one snort of terror, one convulsive 
struggle, and the slime calmly flows above his shaggy 
head, the languid undulations of its sleek and placid 
surface alone betraying how the powerful monster 
writhes in his death-throes below. 

180 We found, after some trouble, a point where we 
could pass the abyss, and now the valley began to 
open upon the plains which spread to the horizon 
before us. On one of their distant swells we dis- 
cerned three or four black specks which Reynal 

1 8 5 pronounced to be buffalo. 

"Come," said he, "we must get one of them. 
My squaw wants more sinews to finish her lodge 
with, and I want some glue myself." 

He immediately put the yellow horse to such a 

1 90 gallop as he was capable of executing, while I set 
spurs to the mule, who soon far outrun her plebeian 
rival. When we had galloped a mile or more a 
large rabbit, by ill luck, sprang up just under the 
feet of the mule, who bounded violently aside in full 

195 career. Weakened as I was I was flung forcibly to 
the ground, and my rifle falling close to my head, 
went off with the shock. Its sharp, spiteful report 
rang for some moments in my ear. Being slightly 
stunned, I lay for an instant motionless, and Reynal, 

20c supposing me to be shot, rode up and began to curse 
the mule. Soon recovering myself, I arose, picked 
up the rifle, and anxiously examined it. It was 
badly injured. The stock was cracked and the main 
screw broken, so that the lock had to be tied in its 

205 place with a string; yet, happily, it was not rendered 
totally unserviceable. I wiped it out, reloaded it, 
and handing it to Reynal, who meanwhile had caught 
the mule and led her up to me, I mounted again. No 
sooner had I done so, than the brute began to rear 



282 THE OREGON TRAIL 

2 1 o and plunge with extreme violence, but being now well 

prepared for her, and free from incumbrance, I scon 

reduced her to submission. Then taking the rifle 

again from Reynal, we galloped forward as before. 

We were now free of the mountains and riding 

215 far out on the broad prairie. The buffalo were still 
some two miles in advance of us When we came 
near them we stopped where a gentle swell of the 
plain concealed us from their view, and while I held 
his horse Reynal ran forward with his rifle, till I 

2 20 lost sight of him beyond the rising ground. A few 
minutes elapsed: I heard the report of his piece, 
and saw the buffalo running away at full speed on 
the right, and immediately after, the hunter him- 
self, unsuccessful as before, came up and mounted 

225 his horse in excessive ill-humor. He cursed the 
Black Hills and the buffalo, swore that he was a 
good hunter, which, indeed, was true, and that he 
had never been out before among those mountains 
without killing two or three deer at least. 

230 We now turned toward the distant encampment. 
As we rode along, antelope in considerable numbers 
were flying lightly in all directions over the plain, 
but not one of them would stand and be shot at. 
When we reached the foot of the mountain ridge 

235 that lay between us and the village, we were too 
impatient to take the smooth and circuitous route; 
so turning short to the left, we drove our wearied 
animals directly upward among the rocks. Still 
more antelope were leaping about among these flinty 

240 hillsides Each of us shot at one, though from a great 
distance, and each missed his mark. At length 
we reached the summit of the last ridge. Looking 
down we saw the bustling camp in the vaUey at our 
feet, and ingloriously descended to it. As w^e rode 

245 among the lodges, the Indians looked in vain for the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 283 

fresh meat that should have hung behind our saddles, 
and the squaws uttered various suppressed ejaculations, 
to the great indignation of Reynal. Our mortification 
was increased when we rode up to his lodge. Here 

2 50 we saw his young Indian relative, the Hail-Storm, his 
light graceful hgure reclining on the ground in an easy 
attitude, while with his friend, the Rabbit, who sat by 
his side, he was making an abundant meal from a 
wooden bowl of icasna, which the squaw had placed 

255 between them. Near him lay the fresh skin of a 
female elk, which he had just killed among the moun- 
tains, only a mile or two from the camp. No doubt 
the boy's heart was elated with triumph, but he be- 
trayed no sign of it. He even seemed totally un- 

260 conscious of our approach, and his handsome face 
had all the tranquillity of Indian self-control; a self- 
control which prevents the exhibition of emotion with- 
out restraining the emotion itself. It was about two 
months since I had known the Hail-Storm, and within 

265 that time his character had remarkably developed. 
When I first saw him he was just emerging from the 
habits and feelings of the boy into the ambition of the 
hunter and warrior He had lately killed his first deer, 
and this had excited his aspirations after distinction. 

2 70 Since that time he had been continually in search of 
game, and no young hunter in the village had been so 
active or so fortunate as he. It will perhaps be re- 
membered how fearlessly he attacked the buffalo- 
bull as we were moving toward our camp at the Medi- 

275 cine-Bow Mountains. All this success had produced 
a marked change in his character. As I first remem- 
bered him he always shunned the society of the young 
squaws, and was extremely bashful and sheepish in 
their presence; but now, in the confidence of his own 

280 reputation, he began to assume the airs and the arts 
of a man of gallantry. He wore his red blanket dash- 



284 THE OREGON TRAIL 

ingly over his left shoulder, painted his cheeks every 
day with vermilion and hung pendants of shells in his 
ears. If I observed aright, he met with very good suc- 

285 cess in his new pursuits; still the Hail-Storm had much 
to accomphsh before he attained the full standing of a 
warrior. Gallantly as he began to bear himself 
among the women and girls, he still was timid and 
abashed in the presence of the chiefs and old men; 

290 for he had never yet killed a man or stricken the 
dead body of an enemy in battle. I have no doubt 
that the handsome smooth-faced boy burned with 
a keen desire to flesh his maiden scalping-knife, and I 
would not have encamped alone with him without 

295 watching his movements with a distrustful eye. 

His elder brother, the Horse, was of a different 
character. He was nothing but a lazy dandy. He 
knew very well how to hunt, but preferred to live 
by the hunting of others. He had no appetite for 

300 distinction, and the Hail- Storm, though a few years 
younger than he, already surpassed him in reputation. 
He had a dark and ugly face, and he passed a great 
part of his time in adorning it with vermilion, and con- 
templating it by means of a little pocket looking-glass 

305 which I gave him. As for the rest of the day, he divided 
it between eating and sleeping, and sitting in the sun 
on the outside of a lodge. Here he would remain for 
hour after hour, arrayed in all his finery, with an old 
dragoon's sword in his hand, and evidently flattering 

3 10 himself that he was the centre of attraction to the eyes 
of the surrounding squaws. Yet he sat looking straight 
forward with a face of the utmost gravity, as if wrapped 
in profound meditation, and it was only by the occa- 
sional sidelong glances which he shot at his supposed 

315 admirers that one could detect the true course of 
tiis thoughts. 

Both he and his brother may represent a class in 



THE OREGON TRAIL 285 

the Indian community ; neither should the Hail-Storm's 
friend, the Rabbit, be passed by without notice. The 

3 20 Hail-Storm and he were inseparable ; they ate, slept, and 
hunted together, and shared with one another almost 
all that they possessed. If there be anything that de- 
serves to be called romantic in the Indian character, it 
is to be sought for in friendships such as this, which 

325 are quite common among many of the prairie-tribes. 
Slowly, hour after hour, that weary afternoon 
dragged away. I lay in Reynal's lodge, overcome 
by the listless torpor that pervaded the whole en- 
campment. The day's work was finished, or if it 

3 30 were not, the inhabitants had resolved not to finish 
it at all, and all were dozing quietly within the shel- 
ter of the lodges. A profound lethargy, the very 
spirit of indolence, seemed to have sunk upon the 
village. Now and then I could hear the low laugh- 

335 ter of some girl from within a neighboring lodge, or 
the small shrill voices of a few restless children, 
who alone were moving in the deserted area. The 
spirit of the place infected me; I could not even 
think consecutively; I was fit only for musing and 

340 reverie, when at last, like the rest, I fell asleep. 

When evening came, and the fires were lighted 
round the lodges, a select family circle convened in 
the neighborhood of Reynal's domicile. It was com- 
posed entirely of his squaw's relatives, a mean and 

345 ignoble clan, among whom none but the Hail-Storm 
held forth any promise of future distinction. Even 
his prospects were rendered not a little dubious by 
the character of the family, less, however, from any 
principle of aristocratic distinction than from the 

350 want of powerful supporters to assist him in his 
undertakings, and help to avenge his quarrels. Ray- 
mond and I sat down along with them. There were 
eight or ten men gathered around the fire, together 



2S6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

with about as many women, old and young, some 

35 5 of whom were tolerably good-looking. As the pipe 
passed around among the men a lively conversa- 
tion went forward, more merry than delicate, and 
at length two or three of the elder women (for the 
girls were somewhat diffident and bashful) began to 

3 60 assail Raymond with various pungent witticisms. 
Some of the men took part, and an old squaw con- 
cluded by bestowing on him a ludicrous nickname, 
at which a general laugh followed at his expense, 
Raymond grinned and giggled, and made several 

365 futile attempts at repartee. Knowing the impolicy 
and even danger of suffering myself to be placed 
in a ludicrous light among the Indians, I maintained 
a rigid inflexible countenance, and wholly escaped 
their saUies. 

370 In the morning I found, to my great disgust, that 
the camp was to retain its position for another day. 
I dreaded its languor and monotony, and to escape 
it I set out to explore the surrounding mountains. 
I was accompanied by a faithful friend, my rifle, 

375 the only friend, indeed, on whose prompt assistance 
in time of trouble I could implicitly rely. Most of 
the Indians in the village, it is true, professed good 
will toward the whites, but the experience of others 
and my own observation had taught me the extreme 

380 folly of confidence, and the utter impossibility of 
foreseeing to what sudden acts the strange unbridled 
impulses of an Indian may urge him. When among 
this people danger is never so near as when you are 
unprepared for it, never so remote as when you are 

385 armed and on the alert to meet it at any moment. 
Nothing offers so strong a temptation to their fero- 
cious instincts as the appearance of timidity, weak- 
ness, or insecurity. 

Many deep and gloomy gorges, choked with trees 



THE OREGON TRAIL 287 

390 and bushes, opened from the sides of the hills, which 
were shaggy with forests wherever the rocks permitted 
vegetation to spring. A great number of Indians were 
stalking along the edges of the woods, and boys were 
whooping and laughing on the mountain-sides, practis- 

39 sing eye and hand, and indulging their destructive 
propensities by following birds and small animals 
and killing them with their little bows and arrows. 
There was one glen stretching up between steep 
cliffs far into the bosom of the mountain. I began to 

400 ascend along its bottom, pushing my way onward 
among the rocks, trees, and bushes that obstructed it. 
A slender thread of water trickled along its centre, 
which since issuing from the heart of its native rock 
could scarcely have been warmed or gladdened by a ray 

40 5 of sunshine. After advancing for some time, I con- 
ceived myself to be entirely alone; but coming to a 
part of the glen in a great measure free of trees and 
undergrowth, I saw at some distance the black head 
and red shoulders of an Indian among the bushes above. 

4ioThe reader need not prepare himself for a startlmg 
adventure, for I have none to relate. The head 
and shoulders belonged to Mene-Seela, my best 
friend in the village. As I had apj^roached noiselessly 
with my moccasined feet, the old man was quite 

4i5unconscious of my presence; and turning to a point 
where I could gain an unobstructed view of him, I saw 
him seated alone, immovable as a statue, among 
the rocks and trees. His face was turned upward, 
and his eyes seemed riveted on a pine tree springing 
4 20 from a cleft in the precipice above. The crest of 
the pine was swaying to and fro in the wind, and its 
long limbs waved slowly up and down, as if the tree 
had life. Looking for a while at the old man, I was 
satisfied that he was engaged in an act of worship, 
42 5 or prayer, or communion of some kind with a super- 



288 THE OREGON TRAIL 

natural being. I longed to penetrate his thoughts, 
but I could do nothing more than conjecture and 
speculate. I knew that though the intellect of an 
Indian can embrace the idea of an all-wise, all-powerful 

430 Spirit, the Supreme Ruler of the universe, yet his mind 
will not always ascend mto communion with a being 
that seems to him so vast, remote, and incomprehensible, 
and when danger threatens, when his hopes are broken, 
when the black wing of sorrow overshadows him, he 

435 is prone to turn for relief to some inferior agency, less 
removed from the ordinary scope of his faculties. He 
has a guardian spirit, on whom he relies for succor 
and guidance. To him all nature is instinct with mystic 
influence. Among those mountains not a wild beast 

440 was prowling, a bird singing, or a leaf fluttering, that 
might not tend to direct his destiny or give warning of 
what was in store for him; and he watches the world 
of nature around him as the astrologer watches the 
stars. So closely is he linked with it that his guar- 

445dian spirit, no unsubstantial creation of the fancy, 
is usually embodied in the form of some living thing: 
a bear, a wolf, an eagle, or a serpent; and Mene- 
Seela, as he gazed intently on the old pine tree, might 
believe it to inshrine the fancied guide and protector 

450 of his life. 

Whatever was passing in the mind of the old man, 
it was no part of sense or of delicacy to disturb him. 
Silently retracing my footsteps, I descended the glen 
until I came to a point where I could climb the steep 

455 precipices that shut it in, and gain the side of the 
mountain. Looking up, I saw a tall peak rising 
among the woods. Something impelled me to climb; 
I had not feh for many a day such strength and elasti- 
city of limb. An hour and a half of slow and often 

460 intermitted labor brought me to the very summit; 
and emerging from the dark shadows of the rocks 



THE OREGON TRAIL 289 

and pines, I stepped forth into the light, and walking 
along the sunny verge of a precipice, seated myself 
on its extreme point. Looking between the mountain 
465 peaks to the westward, the pale blue prairie was stretch- 
ing to the farthest horizon, like a serene and tranquil 
ocean. The surrounding mountains were in themselves 
sufficiently striking and impressive, but this contrast 
gave redoubled effect to their stern features. 



CHAPTER XIX 

PASSAGE OF THE MOUNTAINS 

"Dear Nature is the kindest mother still, 
Though always changing, in her aspect mild; 
From her bare bosom let me take my fill, 
Her never-weaned, though not her favored child. 
5 O, she is fairest in her features wild, 

When nothing polished dares pollute her path; 
On me by day and night she ever smiled, 
Though I have marked her where none other hath, 
And sought her more and more, and loved her best in wrath. " 
lo — Cliilde Harold 

When I took leave of Shaw at La Bonte's camp 
I promised that I would meet him at Fort Laramie 
on the first of August. That day, according to my 
reckoning, was now close at hand. It was impos- 

i5sible, at best, to fulfil my engagement exactly, and 
my meeting wath him must have been postponed 
until many days after the appointed time had not 
the plans of the Indians very well coincided with 
my own. They, too, intended to pass the moun- 

20 tains and move toward the fort. To do so at this 
point was impossible, because there was no opening; 
and in order to find a passage we were obliged to go 
twelve or fourteen miles southward. Late in the 
afternoon the camp got in motion, defiling back 

2 5 through the mountains along the same narrow pas- 
sage by which they had entered. I rode in company 
with three or four young Indians at the rear, and 
the moving swarm stretched before me, in the ruddy 
light of sunset, or in the deep shadow of the moun- 

30 tains, far beyond my sight. It was an ill-omened 
290 



THE OREGON TRAIL 291 

spot they chose to encamp upon. When they were 
there just a year before, a war-party of ten men, led 
by the Whirlwind's son, had gone out against the 
enemy, and not one had ever returned. This was 

3 5 the immediate cause of this season's warlike prepara- 
tions. I was not a little astonished when I came to 
the camp at the confusion of horrible sounds with 
which it was filled; howls, shrieks, and waiHngs 
were heard from all the women present, many of 

40 whom not content with this exhibition of grief for the 
loss of their friends and relatives, were gashing their 
legs deeply with knives. A warrior in the village, 
who had lost a brother in the expedition, chose another 
mode of displaying his sorrow. The Indians, who 

45 though often rapacious, are utterly devoid of avarice, 
are accustomed in times of mourning, or on other 
solemn occasions, to give away the whole of their pos- 
sessions, and reduce themselves to nakedness and 
want. The warrior, in question led his two best horses 

50 into the centre of the village and gave them away to 
his friends; upon which songs and acclamations in 
praise of his generosity mingled with the cries of the 
women. 

On the next morning we entered once more among 

5 5 the mountains. There was nothing in their appear- 
ance either grand or picturesque, though they were 
desolate to the last degree, being mere piles of black 
and broken rocks, without trees or vegetation of any 
kind. As we passed among them along a wide valley, 

60 1 noticed Raymond riding by the side of a young squaw, 
to whom he was addressing various insinuating com- 
pliments. All the old squaws in the neighborhood 
watched his proceedings in great admiration, and the 
girl herself would turn aside her head and laugh. 

65 Just then the old mule thought proper to display her 
vicious pranks; she began to rear and plunge most 



292 THE OREGON TRAIL 

furiously. Raymond was an excellent rider, and at 
first he stuck fast in his seat; but the moment after I 
saw the mule's hind-legs flourishing in the air, and 

70 my unlucky follower pitching head-foremost over her 
ears. There was a burst of screams and laughter 
from all the women, in which his mistress herself took 
part, and Raymond was instantly assailed by such a 
shower of witticisms that he was glad to ride for- 

75 ward out of hearing. 

Not long after, as I rode near him, I heard him 
shouting to me. He was pointing toward a detached 
rocky hill that stood in the middle of the valley before 
us, and from behind it a long file of elk came out at 

80 full speed and entered an opening in the side of the 
mountain. They had scarcely disappeared when 
whoops and exclamations came from fifty voices around 
me. The young men leaped from their horses, flung 
down their heavy bufTalo-robes, and ran at full speed 

85 toward the foot of the nearest mountain. Reynal also 
broke away at a gallop in the same direction, 'Xome 
on! come on!" he called to us. "Do you see that 
band of big-horn up yonder? If there's one of them 
there's a hundred!" 

90 In fact, near the summit of the mountain, I could 
see a large number of small white objects, moving 
rapidly upward among the precipices, while others 
were filing along its rocky profile. Anxious to see 
the sport I galloped forward, and entering a pas- 

9 5 sage in the side of the mountains, ascended among 
the loose rocks as far as my horse could carry me. 
Here I fastened her to an old pine tree that stood 
alone, scorching in the sun. At that moment Ray- 
mond called to me from the right that another band 
1 00 of sheep was close at hand in that direction. I ran 
up to the top of the opening, which gave me a full 
view into the rocky gorge beyond; and here I plainly 



THE OREGON TRAIL 293 

saw some fifty or sixty sheep, almost within rifle-shot, 
clattering upward among the rocks, and endeavoring 

105 after their usual custom, to reach the highest point. 
The naked Indians bounded up lightly in pursuit. 
In a moment the game and hunters disappeared. 
Nothing could be seen or heard but the occasional re- 
port of a gun, more and more distant, reverberating 

110 among the rocks. 

I turned to descend, and as I did so I could see 
the valley below alive with Indians passing rapidly 
through it, on horseback and on foot. A little far- 
ther on, all were stopping as they came up ; the camp 

1 15 was preparing, and the lodges rising. I descended to 
this spot, and soon after Reynal and Raymond returned. 
They bore between them a sheep which they had 
pelted to death with stones from the edge of a ravine, 
along the bottom of which it was attempting to escape. 

120 One by one the hunters came dropping in; yet such is 
the activity of the Rocky Mountain sheep, that although 
sixty or seventy men were out in pursuit, not more than 
half a dozen animals were killed. Of these only one 
was a full grown male. He had a pair of horns twisted 

1 2 5 like a ram's, the dimensions of vv'hich were almost be- 
yond belief. I have seen among the Indians ladles 
with long handles, capable of containing more than a 
quart, cut out from such horns. 

There is something peculiarly interesting in the 

130 character and habits of the mountain-sheep, whose 
chosen retreats are above the region of vegetation 
and of storms, and who leap among the giddy preci- 
pices of their aerial home as actively as the antelope 
skims over the prairies below. 

135 Through the whole of the next morning we were 
moving forward among the hills. On the following 
day the heights gathered around us, and the passage 
of the mountains began in earnest. Before the vil- 



294 THE Oregon trail 

lage left its camping-ground, I set forward in com- 

Mopany with the Eagle-Feather, a man of powerful 
frame, but of bad and sinister face. His son, a 
light-limbed boy, rode with us, and another Indian, 
named the Panther, was also of the party. Leav- 
ing the village out of sight behind us, we rode to- 

i45gether up a rocky defile. After a while, however, 
the Eagle-Feather discovered in the distance some 
appearance of game, and set off with his son in pur- 
suit of it, while I went forward with the Panther. 
This was a mere nom de guerre; for, like many In- 

i5odians, he concealed his real name out of some super- 
stitious notion. He was a very noble looking fellow. 
As he suffered his ornamented buffalo-robe to fall 
in folds about his loins, his stately and graceful figure 
was fully displayed ; and while he sat his horse in an 

155 easy attitude, the long feathers of the prairie-cock 
fluttering from the crown of his head, he seemed the 
very model of a wild prairie-rider. He had not the 
same features with those of other Indians. Unless 
his handsome face greatly belied him, he was free from 

1 60 the jealousy, suspicion, and malignant cunning of his 
people. For the most part, a civilized white man can 
discover but very few points of sympathy between his 
own nature and that of an Indian. With every dis- 
position to do justice to their good qualities, he must 

165 be conscious that an impassable gulf lies between him 
and his red brethren of the prairie. Nay, so alien to 
himself do they appear, that having breathed for a few 
months or a few weekslhe air of this region, he begins 
to look upon them as a troublesome and dangerous 

1 70 species of wild beast, and if expedient, he could shoot 
them with as little compunction as they themselves 
would experience after performing the same office 
upon him. Yet, in the countenance of the Panther, 
I gladly read that there were at least some points of 



THE OREGON TRAIL 295 

1 75 sympathy between him and me. We were excellent 
friends, and as we rode forward together through rocky 
passages, deep dells, and little barren plains, he occu- 
pied himself very zealously in teaching me the Dah- 
cotah language. After a while we came to a little 

1 80 grassy recess, where some gooseberry-bushes were 
growing at the foot of a rock; and these offered such 
temptation to my companion, that he gave over his in- 
struction, and stopped so long to gather the fruit that 
before we were in motion again the van of the village 

185 came in view. An old woman appeared, leading down 
her pack-horse among the rocks above. Savage after 
savage followed, and the httle dell was soon crowded 
with the throng. 

That morning's march was one not easily to be for- 

190 gotten. It led us through a subhme waste, a wilder- 
ness of mountains and pine forests, over which the 
spirit of loneliness and silence seemed brooding. Above 
and below little could be seen but the same dark green 
foliage. It overspread the valleys, and the mountains 

T 95 were clothed with it, from the black rocks that crowned 
their summits to the impetuous streams that circled 
round their base. Scenery like this, it might seem, 
could have no very cheering effect on the mind of a sick 
man (for to-day my disease had again assailed me) in 

soothe midst of a horde of savages; but if the reader has 
ever wandered, with a true hunter's spirit, among the 
forests of Maine, or the more picturesque solitudes of 
the Adirondack Mountains, he will understand how 
the sombre woods and mountains around me might 

205 have awakened any other feelings than those of gloom. 
In truth, they recalled gladdening recollections of 
similar scenes in a distant and far different land. 

After we had been advancing for several hours, 
through passages always narrow, often obstructed 

2 10 and difficult, 1 saw at a little distance on our right 



296 THE OREGON TRAIL 

a narrow opening between two high, wooded preci- 
pices. All within seemed darkness and mystery. 
In the mood in which I found myself, something 
strongly impelled me to enter. Passing over the 

2 1 5 intervening space, I guided my horse through the 
rocky portal, and as I did so, instinctively drew the 
covering from my rifle, half expecting that some 
unknown evil lay in ambush within those dreary 
recesses. The place was shut in among tall cliffs, 

2 2oand so deeply shadowed by a host of old pine trees, 
that though the sun shone bright on the side of the 
mountain, nothing but a dim twilight could penetrate 
within. As far as I could see it had no tenants except 
a few hawks and owls, who, dismayed at my intrusion, 

225 flapped hoarsely away among the shaggy branches. 
I moved forward, determined to explore the mystery 
to the bottom, and soon became involved among the 
pines. The genius of the place exercised a strange 
influence upon my mind. Its faculties were stimulated 

230 into extraordinary activity, and as I passed along many 
half-forgotten incidents, and the images of persons 
and things far distant, rose rapidly before me with 
surprising distinctness. In that perilous wilderness, 
eight hundred miles removed beyond the faintest 

235 vestige of civilization, the scenes of another hemisphere, 
the seat of ancient refinement passed before me, more 
like a succession of vivid paintings than any mere dream 
of the fancy. I saw the church of St. Peter's illumined 
on the evening of Easter-day, the whole majestic pile 

2 40 from the cross to the foundation-stone, pencilled in 
fire, and shedding a radiance, like the serene light of 
the moon, on the sea of upturned faces below. I 
saw the peak of Mount Etna towering above its 
inky mantle of clouds, and lightly curling its wreaths 

245 of milk white smoke against the soft sky, flushed 
with the Sicilian sunset. I saw also the gloomy vaulted 



THE OREGON TRAIL 297 

passages and the narrow cells of the Passionist convent, 
where I once had sojourned for a few days with the 
fanatical monks, its pale stern inmates, in their robes 

2 50 of black; and the grated windows from whence I 
could look out, a forbidden indulgence, upon the melan- 
choly Coliseum and the crumbling ruins of the Eternal 
City. The mighty glaciers of the Splugen, too, rose 
before me, gleaming in the sun like polished silver, 

255 and those terrible solitudes, the birthplace of the Rhine, 
where, bursting from the bowels of its native moun- 
tain, it lashes and foams down the rocky abyss into the 
little valley of Andeer. These recollections, and 
many more crowded upon me, until, remembering 

2 60 that it was hardly wise to remain long in such a place, 
I mounted again and retraced my steps. Issuing from 
between the rocks, I saw a few rods before me, the 
men, women and children, dogs and horses, still filing 
slowly across the little glen. A bare round hill rose 

265 directly above them. I rode to the top, and from this 
point I could look down on the savage procession as it 
passed just beneath my feet, and far on the left I could 
see its thin and broken line, visible only at intervals, 
stretching away for miles among the mountains. On 

7 70 the farthest. ridge horsemen were still descending, like 
mere specks in the distance. 

I remained on the hill until all had passed, and 
then, descending, followed after them. A little 
farther on I found a very small meadow, set deeply 

2 75 among steep mountains; and here the whole village 
had encamped. The little spot was crowded with 
the confused and disorderly host. Some of the lodges 
were already completely prepared, or the squaws 
perhaps were busy in drawing the heavy coverings 

2 80 of skin over the bare poles. Others were as yet 
mere skeletons, while others still, poles, covering, and 
all, lay scattered in complete disorder on the ground 



298 THE OREGON TRAIL 

among buffalo -robes, bales of meat, domestic utensils, 
harness, and weapons. Squaws were screaming to 

285 one another, horses rearing and plunging, dogs yelping, 
eager to be disburdened of their loads, while the flutter- 
ing of feathers and the gleam of barbaric ornaments 
added liveliness to the scene. The small children ran 
about amid the crowd, while many of the boys were 

:? 90 scrambling among the overhanging rocks, and standing, 
with their little bows in their hands, looking down upon 
the restless throng. In contrast with the general 
confusion, a circle of old men and warriors sat in 
the midst smoking in profound indifference and tran- 

29 5quillity. The disorder at length subsided. The 
horses were driven away to feed along the adjacent 
valley, and the camp assumed an air of listless repose. 
It was scarcely past noon; a vast white canopy of 
smoke from a burning forest to the eastward overhung 

soothe place, and partially obscured the rays of the sun; 
yet the heat was almost insupportable. The lodges 
stood crowded together without order in the narrow 
space. Each was a perfect hot-house, within which 
the lazy proprietor lay sleeping. The camp was silent 

305 as death. Nothing stirred except now and then an 
old woman, passing from lodge to lodge. The girls 
and young men sat together in groups, under the pine 
trees upon the surrounding heights. The dogs lay 
panting on the ground, too lazy even to growl at the 

3 10 white man. At the entrance of the meadow there 
was a cold spring among the rocks, completely over- 
shadowed by tall trees and dense undergrowth. In 
this cool and shady retreat a number of the girls were 
assembled, sitting together on rocks and fallen logs, 

3 1 5 discussing the latest gossip of the village, or laughing 
and throwing water with their hands at the intruding 
Meneaska. The minutes seemed lengthened into 
hours. I lay for a long time under a tree, studying 



THE OREGON TRAIL 299 

the Ogallallah tongue, with the zealous instructions of 

320 my friend the Panther. When we were both tired of 
this, I went and lay down by the side of a deep clear 
pool, formed by the water of the spring. A shoal of 
little fishes of about a pin's length were playitig in 
it, sporting together, as it seemed very amicably; but 

325 on closer observation, I saw that they were engaged 
in a cannibal warfare among themselves. Now and 
then a small one would fall a victim, and immediately 
disappear down the maw of his voracious conqueror. 
Every moment, however, the tyrant of the pool, a 

330 monster about three inches long, with staring goggle 
eyes, would slowly issue forth with quivering fins 
and tail from under the shelving bank. The small 
fry at this would suspend their hostilities, and scat- 
ter in a panic at the appearance of overwhelming 

335 force. 

"Soft-hearted philanthropists," thought I, "may 
sigh long for their peaceful millennium; for from 
minnows up to men, life is an incessant battle." 

Evening approached at last, the tall mountain-tops 

340 around were still gay and bright in sunshine, while 
our deep glen was completely shadowed. I left 
the camp and ascended a neighboring hill, whose 
rocky summit commanded a wide view over the 
surrounding wilderness. The sun was still glaring 

345 through the stiff pines on the ridge of the western 
mountain. In a moment he was gone, and as the 
landscape rapidly darkened, I turned again toward 
the village. As I descended the hill the howHng 
of wolves and the barking of foxes came up out of 

350 the dim woods from far and near. The camp was 
glowing with a multitude of fires and ahve with dusky 
naked figures, whose tall shadows flitted among the 
surrounding crags. 

I found a circle of smokers seated in their usual 



300 THE OREGON TRAIL 

35 5 place; that is, on the ground before the lodge of a 
certain warrior, who seemed to be generally known 
for his social qualities. I sat down to smoke a parting 
pipe with my savage friends. That day was the first 
of August, on which I had promised to meet Shaw 

360 at Fort Laramie. The fort was less than two days' 
journey distant, and that my friend need not suffer 
anxiety on my account, I resolved to push forward as 
rapidly as possible to the place of meeting. I went 
to look after the Hail-Storm, and having found him, 

365 I offered him a handful of hawks'-bells and a paper 
of vermilion, on condition that he would guide me in 
the morning through the mountains within sight of 
Laramie Creek. 

The Hail-Storm ejaculated "How!^^ and accepted 

3 70 the gift. Nothing more was said on either side; 
the matter was settled, and I lay down to sleep in 
Kongra-Tonga's lodge. 

Long before daylight, Raymond shook me by the 
shoulder: 

375 "Everything is ready," he said. 

I went out. The morning was chill, damp, and 
dark; and the whole camp seemed asleep. The 
Hail-Storm sat on horseback before the lodge, and 
my mare Pauline and the mule which Raymond 

380 rode were picketed near it. We saddled and made 
our other arrangements for the journey, but before 
these were completed the camp began to stir, and 
the lodge-coverings fluttered and rustled as the squaws 
pulled them down in preparation for departure. Just 

385 as the light began to appear we left the ground, passing 
up through a narrow opening among the rocks which 
led eastward out of the meadow. Gaining the top of 
this passage, I turned round and sat looking back upon 
the camp, dimly visible in the gray light of the morn- 

390 ing. All was alive with the bustle of preparation. I 



THE OREGON TRAIL 301 

turned away, half unwilling to take a final leave of 
my savage associates. We turned to the right, passing 
among rocks and pine trees so dark that for a while we 
could scarcely see our way. The country in front 

395 was wild and broken, half hill, half plain, partly 
open, and partly covered with woods of pine and 
oak. Barriers of lofty mountains encompassed it; 
the woods were fresh and cool in the early morning; 
the peaks of the mountains were wreathed with mist, 

400 and sluggish vapors were entangled among the forests 
upon their sides. At length the black pinnacle of the 
tallest mountain was tipped with gold by the rising 
sun. About that time the Hail-Storm, who rode in 
front, gave a low exclamation. Some large animal 

405 leaped up from among the bushes, and an elk, as I 
thought, his horns thrown back over his neck, darted 
past us across the open space, and bounded like a mad 
thing away among the adjoining pines. Raymond was 
soon out of his saddle, but before he could fire, the ani- 

410 mal was full two hunrded yards distant. The ball 
struck its mark, though much too low for mortal effect. 
The elk, however, wheeled in his flight, and ran at 
full speed among the trees, nearly at right angles to 
his former course. I fired and broke his shoulder; 

415 still he moved on, limping down into a neighboring 
woody hollow, whither the young Indian followed 
and killed him. When we reached the spot we 
discovered him to be no elk, but a black-tailed deer, 
an animal nearly twice the size of the common deer 

420 and quite unknown in the east. We began to cut him 
up; the reports of the rifles had reached the ears of 
the Indians, and before our task was finished several 
of them came to the spot. Leaving the hide of the 
deer to the Hail-Storm, we hung as much of the meat 

425 as we wanted behind our saddles, left the rest to the 
Indians, and resumed our journey. Meanwhile the 



302 THE OREGON TRAIL 

village was on its way, and had gone so far that to get 
in advance of it was impossible. Therefore we directed 
our course so as to strike its line of march at the nearest 

430 point. In a short time, through the dark trunks of 
the pines, we could see the figures of the Indians as 
they passed. Once more we were among them. They 
were moving with even more than their usual precipita- 
tion, crowded close together in a narrow pass between 

435 rocks and old pine trees. We were on the eastern de- 
scent of the mountain, and soon came to a rough and 
difficult defile, leading down a very steep dechvity. 
The whole swarm poured down together, filling the 
rocky passage-way like some turbulent mountain- 

440 stream. The mountains before us were on fire, and 
had been so for weeks. The view in front was ob- 
scured by a vast dim sea of smoke and vapor, while 
on either hand the tall cliffs, bearing aloft their crest 
of pines, thrust their heads boldly through it, and 

445 the sharp pinnacles and broken ridges of the moun- 
tains beyond them were faintly traceable as through 
a veil. The scene in itself was most grand and im- 
posing, but with the savage multitude, the armed 
warriors, the naked children, the gayly apparelled 

450 girls, pouring impetuously down the heights, it would 

have formed a noble subject for a painter, and only the 

pen of a Scott could have done it justice in description. 

We passed over a burnt tract where the ground 

was hot beneath the horses' feet, and between the 

455 blazing sides of two mountains. Before long we 
had descended to a softer region, where we found a 
succession of little valleys watered by a stream, along 
the borders of which grew an abundance of wild 
gooseberries and currants, and the children and 

460 many of the men straggled from the line of march 
to gather them as we passed along. Descending 
still farther, the view changed rapidly. The burn- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 303 

ing mountains were behind us, and through the 
open valleys in front we could see the ocean-like 

465prairie, stretching beyond the sight. After passing 
through a Hne of trees that skirted the brook, the 
Indians filed out upon the plains. I was thirsty and 
knelt down by the Httle stream to drink. As I mounted 
again, I very carelessly left my rifle among the grass, 

47oand my thoughts being otherwise absorbed, I rode 
for some distance before discovering its absence. 
As the reader may conceive, I lost no time in turning 
about and galloping back in search of it. Passing the 
line of Indians, I watched every warrior as he rode by 

4 75me at a canter, and at length discovered my rifle in 
the hands of one of them, who, on my approaching to 
claim it, immediately gave it up. Having no other 
means of acknowledging the obligation, I took off one 
of my spurs and gave it to him. He was greatly de- 

48olighted, looking upon it as a distinguished mark of 
favor, and immediately held out his foot for me to 
buckle it on. As soon as I had done so, he struck it 
with all his force into the side of his horse, who gave 
a violent leap. The Indian laughed and spurred harder 

485than before. At this the horse shot away like an arrow, 
amid the screams and laughter of the squaws, and the 
ejaculations of the men, who exclaimed: "Washtay! 
— Good !" at the potent effect of my gift. The Indian 
had no saddle, and nothing in place of a bridle except 

490a leather string tied round the horse's jaw. The ani- 
mal was, of course, wholly uncontrollable, and stretched 
away at full speed over the prairie, till he and his rider 
vanished behind a distant swell. I never saw the man 
again, but I presume no harm came to him. An In- 

49 5dian on horseback has more lives than a cat. 

The village encamped on a scorching prairie, 
close to the foot of the mountains. The heat was 
most intense and penetrating. The coverings of the 



304 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



lodgings were raised a foot or more from the ground 

500 in order to procure some circulation of air; and 
Reynal thought proper to lay aside his trapper's 
dress of buckskin and assume the very scanty cos- 
tume of an Indian. Thus elegantly attired, he 
stretched himself in his lodge on a buffalo-robe, 

505 alternately cursing the heat and puffing at the pipe 
which he and I passed between us. There was 
present also a select circle of Indian friends and 
relatives. A small boiled puppy was served up as 
a parting feast, to which was added, by way of dessert, 

510 a wooden bowl of gooseberries, from the mountains. 

''Look there," said Reynal, pointing out of the 
opening of his lodge; "do you see that Hne of buttes 
about fifteen miles off? Well, now do you see that 
farthest one, with the white spec on the face of it? 

515 Do you think you ever saw it before?" 

It looks to me," said I, "like the hill that we were 
camped under when we were on Laramie Creek, 
six or eight weeks ago." 

"You've hit it," answered Reynal. 

520 "Go, and bring in the animals, Raymond," said 
I; "we'll camp there to-night, and start for the fort 
in the morning." 

The mare and the mule were soon before the lodge. 
We saddled them, and in the meantime a number of 

525 Indians collected about us. The virtues of Pauhne, 
my strong, fleet, and hardy little mare, were well known 
in camp, and several of the visitors were mounted 
upon good horses which they had brought me as 
presents. I promptly declined their offers, since 

530 accepting them would have involved the necessity of 
transferring poor Pauline into their barbarous hands. 
We took leave of Reynal, but not of the Indians, who 
are accustomed to dispense with such superfluous 
ceremonies. Leaving the camp, we rode straight over 



THE OREGON TRAIL 305 

535 the prairie toward the white-faced bluff, whose pale 
ridges swelled gently against the horizon, like a cloud. 
An Indian went with us, whose name I forget, though 
the ugHness of his face and the ghastly width of his 
mouth dwell vividly in my recollection. The antelope 

5 40 were numerous, but we did not heed them. We 
rode directly toward our destination, over the arid 
plains and barren hills; until, late in the afternoon, 
half-spent with heat, thirst, and fatigue, we saw a 
gladdening sight; the long line of trees and the deep 

545 gulf that mark the course of Laramie Creek. Passing 
through the growth of huge dilapidated old cotton- 
wood trees that bordered the creek, we rode across to 
the other side. The rapid and foaming waters were 
filled with fish playing and splashing in the shallows. 

5 50 As we gained the farther bank, our horses turned eagerly 
to drink, and we, kneeling on the sand, followed 
their example. We had not gone far before the 
scene began to grow familiar. 

"We are getting near home, Raymond," said I. 

555 There stood the big tree under which we had en- 
camped so long; there were the white cliffs that used 
to look down upon our tent when it stood at the bend 
of the creek; there was the meadow in which our 
horses had grazed for weeks, and a little farther on, 

5 60 the prairie-dog village, where I had beguiled many 
a languid hour in persecuting the unfortunate inhab- 
itants. 

"We are going to catch it now," said Raymond, 
turning his broad, vacant face up toward the sky. 

565 In truth the landscape, the cliffs, and the meadow, 
the stream and the groves, were darkening fast. 
Black masses of cloud were swelling up in the south, 
and the thunder was growling ominously. 

"We will camp there," I said, pointing to a dense 

5 70 grove of trees lower down the stream. Raymond 



3o6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

and I turned toward it, but the Indian stopped and 
called earnestly after us. When we demanded 
what was the matter, he said that the ghosts of two 
warriors were always among those trees, and that 

5 7 5 if we slept there they would scream and throw stones 
at us all night, and perhaps steal our horses before 
morning. Thinking it as well to humor him, we left 
behind us the haunt of these extraordinary ghosts, 
and passed on toward Chugwater, riding at full gallop, 

s 8o for the big drops began to patter down. Soon we came 
in sight of the poplar saplings that grew about the 
mouth of the little stream. We leaped to the ground, 
threw off our saddles, turned our horses loose, and, 
drawing our knives, began to slash among the bushes 

S 8 5 to cut twigs and branches for making a shelter against 
the rain. Bending down the taller saplings as they 
grew, we piled the young shoots upon them, and 
thus made a convenient pent-house; but all our labor 
was useless. The storm scarcely touched us. Half 

590 a mile on our right the rain was pouring down like a 
cataract, and the thunder roared over the prairie like a 
battery of cannon ; while we, by good fortune, received 
only a few heavy drops from the skirt of the passing 
cloud. The weather cleared and the sun set gloriously. 

595 Sitting close under our leafy canopy, we proceeded to 
discuss a substantial meal of wasna which Weah- 
Washtay had given me. The Indian had brought with 
him his pipe and a bag of shongsasha; so before lying 
down to sleep, we sat for some time smoking together. 

600 Previously, however, our wide- mouthed friend had 
taken the precaution of carefully examining the neigh- 
borhood. He reported that eight men, counting them 
on his fingers, had been encamped there not long be- 
fore. Bisonette, Paul Dorion, Antoine Le Rouge, 

605 Richardson, and four others, whose names he could not 
tell. All this proved strictly correct. By what instinct 



THE OREGON TRAIL 307 

he had arrived at such accurate conclusions, I am 
utterly at a loss to divine. 

It was still c^uite dark when I awoke and called 

610 Raymond. The Indian was already gone, having 
chosen to go on before as to the fort. Setting out 
after him, we rode for some time in complete darknesi^, 
and when the sun at length rose, glowing like a hery 
ball of copper, we were ten miles distant from the fort. 

615 At length, from the broken summit of a tall sandy 
bluff, we could see Fort Laramie, miles before us, 
standing by the side of the stream,- like a little gray 
speck, in the midst of the boundless desolation. I 
stopped my horse, and sat for a moment looking down 

620 upon it. It seemed to me the very centre of comfort 
and civilization. We were not long in approaching it, 
for we rode at speed the greater part of the way. Lara- 
mie Creek still intervened between us and the friendly 
walls. Entering the water at the point where we had 

62 5 struck upon the bank we raised our feet to the saddle 
behind us, and thus kneeling, as it were, on horse- 
back, passed dry-shod through the swift current. As 
we rode up the bank, a number of men appeared in 
the gateway. Three of them came forward to meet 

630 us. In a moment I distinguished Shaw; Henry 
Chatillon followed with his face of manly simplicity 
and frankness, and Delorier came last, with a broad 
grin of welcome. The meeting was not on either 
side one of mere ceremony. For my own part, the 

635 change was a most agreeable one, from the society 
of sa^'ages and men Httle better than savages, to 
that of my gallant and high-minded companion, 
and our noble-hearted guide. My appearance was 
equally gratifying to Shaw, who was beginning to 

640 entertain some very uncomfortable surmises con- 
cerning me. 

Bordeaux greeted me very cordially, and shouted 



3o8 THE OREGON TRAIL 

to the cook. This functionary was a new acquisi- 
tion, having lately come from Fort Pierre with the 

645 trading- wagons. Whatever skill he might have boasted, 
he had not the most promising materials to exercise 
it upon. He set before me, however, a breakfast of 
biscuit, coffee, and salt pork. It seemed like a new 
phase of existence to be seated once more on a bench, 

650 with a knife and fork, a plate and tea-cup, and some- 
thing resembling a table before me. The coffee seemed 
delicious, and the bread was a most welcome novelty, 
since for three weeks I had eaten scarcely anything 
but meat, and that for the most part without salt. The 

655 meal also had the relish of good company, for opposite 
to me sat Shaw in elegant dishabille. If one is anxious 
thoroughly to appreciate the value of a congenial 
companion, he has only to spend a few weeks by 
himself in an Ogallallah village. And if he can 

660 contrive to add to his seclusion a debilitating and 
somewhat critical illness, his perceptions upon this 
subject will be rendered considerably more vivid. 

Shaw had been upward of two weeks at the fort. 
I found him established in his old quarters, a large 

665 apartment usually occupied by the absent bourgeois. 
In one corner was a soft and luxurious pile of excel- 
lent buffalo-robes, and here I lay down. Shaw 
brought me three books. 

"Here," said he, "is your Shakespeare and By- 

670 ron, and here is the Old Testament, which has as 
much poetry in it as the other two put together." 

I chose the worst of the three, and for the greater 
part of that day I lay on the buffalo-robes, fairly 
revelling in the creations of that resplendent genius 

67s which has achieved no more signal triumph than 
that of half beguiling us to forget the pitiful and un- 
manly character of its possessor. 



CHAPTER XX 

THE LONELY JOURNEY 

''Of antres vast, and deserts idle, ^^ 

Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven. 
^ ^ — Othello 

On the day of my arrival at Fort Laramie, Shaw 
5 and I were lounging on two buffalo-robes in the large 
apartment hospitably assigned to us; Henry Chatillon 
also was present, busy about the harness and weapons, 
which had been brought into the room, and two or 
three Indians were crouching on the floor, eyeing us 

1 o with their fixed unwavering gaze. 

"I have been well off here," said Shaw, "m all 
respects but one; there is no good shongsasha to be 
had for love or money." 

I gave him a small leather bag containing some 

1 5 of excellent quality, which I had brought from the 
Black Hills. "Now, Henry," said he, ''hand me 
Papin's chopping-board, or give it to that Indian, 
and let him cut the mixture; they understand it 
better than any white man." 

20 The Indian, without saying a word, mixed the 
bark and the tobacco in due proportions, filled the 
pipe, and lighted it. This done, my companion 
and I proceeded to dehberate on our future course 
of proceeding; first, however, Shaw acquainted me 

2 5 with some incidents which had occurred at the fort 

during mv absence. 

About a week previous four men had arrived from 
bevond the mountains: Sublette, Reddick, and two 

309 



3IO THE OREGON TRAIL 

others. Just before reaching the fort they had met 

30 a large party of Indians, chiefly young men. All 
of them belonged to the village of our old friend 
Smoke, who, with his whole band of adherents, 
professed the greatest friendship for the whites. 
The travellers therefore approached, and began to 

s 5 converse without the least suspicion. Suddenly, 
however, their bridles were violently seized, and 
they were ordered to dismount. Instead of com- 
plying, they struck their horses with full force and 
broke away from the Indians. As they galloped off 

40 they heard a yell behind them, mixed with a burst 
of derisive laughter, and the reports of several guns. 
None of them were hurt, though Reddick's bridle- 
rein was cut by a bullet within an inch of his hand. 
After this taste of Indian hostihty, they felt for the 

45 moment no disposition to encounter farther risks. 
They intended to pursue the route southward along 
the foot of the mountains to Bent's Fort; and as 
our plans coincided with theirs, they proposed to 
join forces. Finding, however, that I did not re- 

50 turn, they grew impatient of inaction, forgot their 
late escape, and set out without us, promising to 
wait our arrival at Bent's Fort. From thence we 
were to make the long journey to the settlements in 
company, as the path was not a little dangerous, 

5 5 being infested by hostile Pawnees and Comanches. 
We expected, on reaching Bent's Fort, to find 
there still another reinforcement. A young Ken- 
tuckian, of the true Kentucky blood, generous, im- 
petuous, and a gentleman withal, had come out to 

60 the mountains with Russell's party of California 
emigrants. One of his chief objects, as he gave 
out, was to kill an Indian; an exploit which he after- 
ward succeeded in achieving, much to the jeopardy of 
ourselves and others who had to pass through the coun- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 311 

65 try of the dead Pawnee's enraged relatives. Having 
become disgusted with his emigrant associates, he left 
them, and had some time before set out with a party 
of companions for the head of the Arkansas. He sent 
us previously a letter, intimating that he would wait 

70 until we arrived at Bent's Fort, and accompany us 
thence to the settlements. When, however, he came 
to the fort he found there a party of forty men about to 
make the homeward journey. He wisely preferred to 
avail himself of so strong an escort. Mr. Sublette and 

75 his companions also set out, in order to overtake 
this company; so that on reaching Bent's Fort, 
some six weeks after, we found ourselves deserted 
by our allies and thrown once more upon our own 
resources. 

80 But I am anticipating. When, before leaving 
the settlements, we had made inquiries concerning 
this part of the country of General Kearney, Mr. 
Mackenzie, Captain Wyeth, and others well acquainted 
with it, they had all advised us by no means to attempt 

85 this southward journey with fewer than fifteen or twenty 
men. The danger consists in the chance of encounter- 
ing Indian war-parties. Sometimes, throughout the 
whole length of the journey (a distance of three hundred 
and fifty miles), one does not meet a single human be- 

going; frequently, however, the route is beset by Arapa- 
hoes and other unfriendly tribes; in which case the 
scalp of the adventurer is in imminent peril. As 
to the escort of fifteen or twenty men, such a force 
of whites could at that time scarcely be collected in 

9 5 the whole country; and had the case been other- 
wise, the expense of securing them, together with 
the necessary number of horses, would have been 
extremely heavy. We had resolved, however, upon 
pursuing this southward course. There were, in- 
100 deed, two other routes from Fort Laramie; but both 



312 THE OREGON TRAIL 

of these were less interesting, and neither was free 
from danger. Being unable, therefore, to procure 
the fifteen or twenty men recommended, we deter- 
mined to set out with those we had already in our 

105 employ — Henry Chatillon, Delorier, and Raymond. 
The men themselves made no objection, nor would 
they have made any had the journey been more 
dangerous; for Henry was without fear, and the 
other two without thought. 

no Shaw and I were much better fitted for this mode 
of travelling than we had been on betaking our- 
selves to the prairies for the first time a few months 
before. The daily routine had ceased to be a nov- 
elty. All the details of the journey and the camp 

1 15 had become familiar to us. We had seen life under 
a new aspect; the human biped had been reduced 
to his primitive condition. We had lived without 
law to protect, a roof to shelter, or garment of cloth 
to cover us. One of us, at least, had been without 

120 bread, and without salt to season his food. Our idea 
of what is indispensable to human existence and 
enjoyment had been wonderfully curtailed, and a 
horse, a rifle, and a knife seemed to make up the 
whole of life's necessaries. For these once obtained, 

125 together with the skill to use them, all else that is essen- 
tial, would follow in their train, and a host of luxuries 
besides. One other lesson our short prairie experience 
had taught us; that of profound contentment in the 
present, and utter contempt for what the future might 

1 30 bring forth. 

These principles established, we prepared to leave 
Fort Laramie. On the fourth day of August, ~; rly 
in the afternoon, we bade a final adieu to its hos- 
pitable gateway. Again Shaw and I were riding 

135 side by side on the prairie. For the first fifty miles 
we had companions with us; Troche, a little trap- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 313 

per, and Rouville, a nondescript in the employ of 
the Fur Company, who were going to join the trader, 
Bisonette, at his encampment near the head of Horse 

140 Creek. We rode only six or eight miles that afternoon 
before we came to a little brook traversing the barren 
prairie. All along its course grew copses of young wild- 
cherry trees, loacled with ripe fruit, and almost con- 
cealing the gliding thread of water with their dense 

145 growth, while on each side rose swells of rich green 
grass. Here we encamped; and being much too in- 
dolent to pitch our tent, we flung our saddles on the 
ground, spread a pair of buffalo-robes, lay down upon 
them, and began to smoke. Meanwhile, Delorier 

1 50 busied himself with his hissing frying-pan, and Ray- 
mond stood guard over the band of grazing horses. 
Delorier had an active assistant in Rouville, who pro- 
fessed great skill in the culinary art, and, seizing 
upon a fork, began to lend his zealous aid in making 

15s ready supper. Indeed, according to his own belief, 
Rouville was a man of universal knowledge, and he 
lost no opportunity to display his manifold accom- 
plishments. He had been a circus-rider at St. Louis, 
and once he rode round Fort Laramie on his head, 

1 60 to the utter bewilderment of all the Indians. He was 
also noted as the wit of the fort; and as he had con- 
siderable humor and abundant vivacity, he contributed 
more that night to the liveliness of the camp than all 
the rest of the party put together. At one instant he 

1 65 would be kneeling by Delorier, instructing him in the 
true method of frying antelope-steaks, then he would 
come and seat himself at our side, dilating upon the 
orthodox fashion of braiding up a horse's tail, telling 
apocryphal stories how he had killed a buffalo-bull 
1 70 with a knife, having first cut off his tail when at full 
speed, or relating whimsical anecdotes of the bourgeois 
Papin. At last he snatched up a volume of Shakes- 



314 THE OREGON TRAIL 

peare that was lying on the grass, and halted and stum- 
bled through a line or two to prove that he could read. 

1 75 He went gambolling about the camp, chattering hke 
some frolicsome ape; and whatever he was doing at 
one moment the presumption was a sure one that he 
would not be doing it the next. His companion 
Troche sat silently on the grass, not speaking a word, 

1 80 but keeping a vigilant eye on a very ugly little Utah 
squaw, of whom he was extremely jealous. 

On the next day, we travelled farther, crossing 
the wide sterile basin called " Goche's Hole." Toward 
night we became involved among deep ravines; and 

185 being also unable to find water, our journey was pro- 
tracted to a very late hour. On the next morning we 
had to pass a long line of bluffs, whose raw sides 
wrought upon by rains and storms, were of a ghastly 
whiteness most oppressive to the sight. As we ascended 

190 a gap in these hills, the way was marked by huge foot- 
prints, like those of a human giant. They were the 
track of the grizzly bear; and on the previous day also 
we had seen an abundance of them along the dry chan- 
nels of the streams we had passed. Immediately 

195 after this we were crossing a barren plain, spreading 
in long and gentle undulations to the horizon. Though 
the sun was bright, there was a light haze in the atmo- 
sphere. The distant hills assumed strange, distorted 
forms, and the edge of the horizon was continually 

200 changing its aspect. Shaw and I were riding together, 
and Henry Chatillon was alone, a few rods before us; 
he stopped his horse suddenly, and turning round with 
the peculiar eager and earnest expression which he 
always wore when excited, he called us to come for- 

205 ward. We galloped to his side. Henry pointed 
toward a black speck on the gray swell of the prairie 
apparently about a mile off. "It must be a bear," 
said he; "come, now we shall all have some sport. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 315 

Better fun to fight him than to fight an old buffalo- 

2 10 bull; grizzly bear so strong and smart." 

So we all galloped forward together, prepared for 
a hard fight; for these bears, though clumsy in ap- 
pearance and extremely large, are incredibly fierce 
and active. The swell of the prairie concealed the 

2i5black object from our view. Immediately after it 
appeared again. But now it seemed quite near to 
us; and as we looked at it in astonishment, it sud- 
denly separated into two parts, each of which took 
wing and flew away. We stopped our horses and 

2 20 looked round at Henry, whose face exhibited a curi- 
ous mixture of mirth and mortification. His hawk's 
eye had been so completely deceived by the peculiar 
atmosphere, that he had mistaken two large crows 
at the distance of fifty rods for a grizzly bear a mile 

22 5 off. To the journey's end Henr}' never heard the last 
of the grizzly bear with wings. 

In the afternoon we came to the foot of a consider- 
able hill. As we ascended it, Rouville began to 
ask questions concerning our condition and pros- 

2 3opects at home, and Shaw was edifying him with a 
minute account of an imaginary wife and child, to 
which he listened with implicit faith. Reaching the 
top of the hill, we saw the windings of Horse Creek 
on the plains below us, and a Httle on the left we 

235 could distinguish the camp of Bisonette among the 
trees and copses along the course of the stream. Rou- 
ville's face assumed just then a most ludicrously 
blank expression. We inquired what was the matter; 
when it appeared that Bisonette had sent him from 

2 40 this place to Fort Laramie with the sole object of 
bringing back a supply of tobacco. Our rattlebrain 
friend, from the time of his reaching the fort up to 
the present moment, had entirely forgotten the ob- 
ject of his journey, and had ridden a dangerous hun- 



3i6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

245dred miles for nothing. Descending to Horse Creek, 
we forded it, and on the opposite bank a soHtary In- 
dian sat on horseback under a tree. He said noth- 
ing, but turned and led the way toward the camp. 
Bisonette had made choice of an admirable position. 

250 The stream with its thick growth of trees, inclosed on 
three sides a wide green meadow, where about forty 
Dahcotah lodges were pitched in a circle, and beyond 
them half a dozen lodges of the friendly Cheyenne. 
Bisonette himself lived in the Indian manner. Riding 

2 5 5 up to his lodge, we found him seated at the head of it 
surrounded by various appliances of comfort not com- 
mon on the prairie. His squaw was near him, and rosy 
children were scrambling about in printed -calico 
gowns; Paul Dorion also, with his leathery face and 

2 60 old white capote, was seated in the lodge, together with 
Antoine Le Rouge, a half-breed Pawnee, Sibille, a 
trader, and several other white men. 

"It will do you no harm," said Bisonette, "to 
stay here with us for a day or two before you start 

265 for the Pueblo." 

We accepted the invitation, and pitched our tent 
on a rising ground above the camp and close to the 
edge of the trees. Bisonette soon invited us to a 
feast, and we suffered an abundance of the same sort 

2 70 of attention from his Indian associates. The reader 
may possibly recollect that when I joined the Indian 
village, beyond the Black Hills, I found that a few 
families were absent, having declined to pass the 
mountains along with the rest. The Indians in 

2 75Bisonette's camp consisted of these very families, 
and many of them came to me that evening to in- 
quire after their relatives and friends. They were 
not a little mortified to learn that while they, from 
their own timidity and indolence, were almost in a 

280 starving condition, the rest of the village had pro- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 317 

vided their lodges for the next season, laid in a great 
stock of provisions, and were living in abundance 
and luxury. Bisonette's companions had been sus- 
taining themselves for some time on wild cherries, 

285 which the squaws pounded up, stones and all, and 

spread on buffalo-robes, to dry in the sun; they 

were then eaten without farther preparation, or used 

as an ingredient in various delectable compounds. 

On the next day the camp was in commotion with 

290a new arrival. A single Indian had come with his 
family the whole way from the Arkansas. As he 
passed among the lodges he put on an expression of 
unusual dignity and importance, and gave out that 
he had brought great news to tell the whites. Soon 

29 5 after the squaws had erected his lodge, he sent his 
little son to invite all the white men and all the more 
distinguished Indians to a feast. The guests arrived 
and sat wedged together, shoulder to shoulder, within 
the hot and suffocating lodge. The Stabber, for that 

300 was our entertainer's name, had killed an old buffalo- 
bull on his way. This veteran's boiled tripe, tougher 
than leather, formed the main item of the repast. 
For the rest, it consisted of wild cherries and grease 
boiled together in a large copper kettle. The feast 

305 was distributed and for a moment all was silent, 
strenuous exertion; then each guest, with one or two 
exceptions, however, turned his wooden dish bottom 
upward to prove that he had done full justice to his 
entertainer's hospitality. The Stabber next produced 

3 10 his chopping-board, on which he prepared the mixture 
for smoking, and filled several pipes, which circulated 
among the company. This done, he seated himself 
upright on his couch, and began with much gesticula- 
tion to tell his story. I will not repeat his childish 

31 5 jargon. It was so entangled, like the greater part of 
an Indian's stories, with absurd and contradictory de- 



3i8 THE OREGON TRAIL 

tails, that it was almost impossible to disengage from 
it a single particle of truth. All that we could gather 
was the following: 

320 He had been on the Arkansas, and there he had 
seen six great war-parties of whites. He had never 
believed before that the whole world contained half 
so many white men. They all had large horses, 
long knives, and short rifles, and some of them were 

325 attired alike in the most splendid war-dresses he 
had ever seen. From this account it was clear that 
bodies of dragoons and perhaps also of volunteer 
cavalry had been passing up the Arkansas. The 
Stabber had also seen a great many of the white 

3 30 lodges of the Meneaska, drawn by their long-horned 
buffalo. These could be nothing else than covered 
ox-wagons, used, no doubt, in transporting stores 
for the troops. Soon after seeing this, our host had 
met an Indian who had lately come from among the 

335 Comanches. The latter had told him that all the 
Mexicans had gone out to a great buffalo-hunt; that 
the Americans had hid themselves in a ravine. When 
the Mexicans had shot away all their arrows, the 
Americans had fired their guns, raised their war- 

340 whoop, rushed out, and killed them all. We could 
only infer from this that war had been declared with 
Mexico, and a battle fought in which the Americans 
were victorious. When, some weeks after, we arrived 
at the Pueblo, we heard of General Kearney's march 

345 up the Arkansas, and of General Taylor's victories at 
Matamoras. 

As the sun was setting that evening a great crowd 
gathered on the plain, by the side of our tent, to try 
the speed of their horses. These were of every 

350 shape, size, and color. Some came from California, 
some from the States, some from among the moun- 
tains, and some from the wild bands of the prairie. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 319 

They were of every hue — white, black, red, and 
gray, or mottled and clouded with a strange variety 

35 5 of colors. They all had a wild and startled look, 
very different from the staid and sober aspect of a 
well-bred city steed. Those most noted for swift- 
ness and spirit were decorated with eagle feathers 
dangling from their manes and tails. Fifty or sixty 

360 Dahcotahs were present, wrapped from head to foot 
in their heavy robes of whitened hide. There were 
also a considerable number of the Cheyenne, many 
of whom wore gaudy Mexican ponchos, swathed 
around their shoulders, but leaving the right arm 

365 bare. Mingled among the crowd of Indians were 
a number of Canadians, chiefly in the employ of 
Bisonette; men whose home is the wilderness, and 
who love the camp-fire better than the domestic 
hearth. They are contented and happy in the midst 

3 70 of hardship, privation, and danger. Their cheer- 
fulness and gayety is irrepressible and no people on 
earth understand better how "to daff the world 
aside and bid it pass." Besides these, were two or 
three half-breeds, a race of rather extraordinary com- 

375 position, being, according to the common saying, half 
Indian, half white man, and half devil. Antoine Le 
Rouge was the most conspicuous among them, with 
his loose pantaloons and his fluttering calico shirt. 
A handkerchief was bound round his head to confine 

380 his black snaky hair, and his small eyes twinkled be- 
neath it with a mischievous lustre. He had a fine cream 
colored horse, whose speed he must needs try along with 
the rest. So he threw off the rude high-peaked sad- 
dle, and substituting a piece of buffalo-robe, leaped 

385 lightly into his seat. The space was cleared, the word 
was given, and he and his Indian rival darted out like 
lightning from among the crowd, each stretching 
forward over his horse's neck and plying his heavy 



320 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Indian whip with might and main. A moment, and 

390 both were lost in the gloom; but Antoine soon came 
riding back victorious, exultingly patting the neck of 
his quivering and panting horse. 

About midnight, as I lay asleep, wrapped in a 
buffalo-robe on the ground by the side of our cart, 

39 5 Raymond came up and woke me. Something, he 
said, was going forward which I would Hke to see. 
Looking down into the camp I saw, on the farther 
side of it, a great number of Indians gathered around 
a fire, the bright glare of which made them visible 

400 through the thick darkness; while from the midst 
of them proceeded a loud, measured chant which would 
have killed Paganini outright, broken occasionally 
by a burst of sharp yells. I gathered the robe around 
me, for the night was cold, and walked down to the 

405 spot. The dark throng of Indians was so dense that 
they almost intercepted the light of the flame. As I 
was pushing among them with but little ceremony, a 
chief interposed himself, and I was given to under- 
stand that a white man must not approach the scene 

4 10 of their solemnities too closely. By passing around 
to the other side where there was a httle opening in the 
crowd, I could see clearly what was going forward 
without intruding my unhallowed presence into the 
inner circle. The society of the "Strong Hearts " were 

4 1 5 engaged in one of their dances. The '' Strong Hearts " 
are a warlike association, comprising men of both the 
Dahcotah and Cheyenne nations, and entirely composed, 
or supposed to be so, of young braves of the highest 
mettle. Its fundamental principle is the admirable 

420 one of never retreating from any enterprise once com- 
menced. All these Indian associations have a tutelary 
spirit. That of the "Strong Hearts" is embodied in 
the fox, an animal which white men would hardly have 
selected for a similar purpose, though his subtle and 



THE OREGON TRAIL 321 

425 cautious character agrees well enough with an Indian's 
notions of what is honorable in warfare. The dancers 
were circling round and round the fire, each figure 
brightly illumined at one moment by the yellow light, 
and at the next drawn in blackest shadow as it passed 

430 between the flame and the spectator. They would 
imitate with the most ludicrous exactness the motions 
and the voice of their sly patron the fox. Then a start- 
ling yell would be given. Many other warriors would 
leap into the ring, and with faces upturned toward 

435 the starless sky, they would all stamp, and whoop, 

and brandish their weapons like so many frantic devils. 

Until the next afternoon we were still remaining 

with Bisonette. My companion and I with our 

three attendants then left his camp for the Pueblo, 

440 a distance of three hundred miles, and we supposed 
the journey would occupy about a fortnight. During 
this time we all earnestly hoped that we might not 
meet a single human being, for should we encounter 
any, they would in all probability be enemies, fero- 

44 5cious robbers and murderers, in whose eyes our 
rifles would be our only passports. For the first 
two days nothing worth mentioning took place. On 
the third morning, however, an untoward incident 
occurred. We were encamped by the side of a little 

450 brook in an extensive hollow of the plain. Delorier 
was up long before daylight, and before he began to 
prepare breakfast he turned loose all the horses, as in 
duty bound. There was a cold mist clinging close 
to the ground, and by the time the rest of us were awake 

455 the animals were invisible. It was only after a long 
and anxious search that w^e could discover by their 
tracks the direction they had taken. They had all 
set off for Fort Laramie, following the guidance of a 
mutinous old mule, and though many of them w^ere 
460 hobbled they had travelled three miles before they 
could be overtaken and driven back. 



322 THE OREGON TRAIL 

For the following two or three days we were pass- 
ing over an arid desert. The only vegetation was a 
few tufts of short grass, dried and shrivelled by the 

465 heat. There was an abundance of strange insects 
and reptiles. Huge crickets, black and bottle-green, 
and wingless grasshoppers of the most extravagant 
dimensions, were tumbling about our horses' feet, 
and Hzards without number were darting like light- 

4 7oning among the tufts of grass. The most curious 
animal, however, was that commonly called the 
horned -frog. I caught one of them and consigned 
him to the care of Delorier, who tied him up in a 
moccasin. About a month after this I examined 

4 75 the prisoner's condition, and finding him still Hvely 
and active, I provided him with a cage of buffalo- 
hide, which was hung up in the cart. In this man- 
ner he arrived safely at the settlements. From thence 
he travelled the whole way to Boston, packed closely 

480 in a trunk, being regaled with fresh air regularly every 
night. When he reached his destination he was 
deposited under a glass case, where he sat for some 
months in great tranquillity and composure, alternately 
dilating and contracting his white throat to the admira- 

485tion of his visitors. At length, one morning about the 
middle of winter, he gave up the ghost. His death was 
attributed to starvation, a very probable conclusion, 
since for six months he had taken no food whatever, 
though the sympathy of his juvenile admirers had 

490 tempted his palate with a great variety of delicacies. 
We found also animals of a somewhat larger growth. 
The number of prairie-dogs was absolutely astounding. 
Frequently the hard and dry prairie would be thickly 
covered, for many miles together, with the little 

49 5 mounds which they make around the mouth of their 
burrows, and small squeaking voices yelping at us 
as we passed along. The noses of the inhabitants 



THE OREGON TRAIL 323 

would be just visible at the mouth of their holes, 
but no sooner was their curiosity satisfied than they 

500 would instantly vanish. Some of the bolder dogs — 
though, in fact, they are no dogs at all — but little 
marmots, rather smaller than a rabbit — would sit 
yelping at us on the top of their mounds, jerking 
their tails emphatically with every shrill cry they 

505 uttered. As the danger drew nearer they would 
wheel about, toss their heels into the air, and dive 
in a twinkling down into their burrows. Toward 
sunset, and especially if rain were threatening, the 
whole community would make their appearance 

5 10 above ground. We would see them gathered in 
large knots around the burrow of some favorite citi- 
zen. There they would all sit erect, their tails spread 
out on the ground, and their paws hanging down 
before their white breasts, chattering and squeaking 

5 1 s with the utmost vivacity upon some topic of common 
interest, while the proprietor of the burrow, with his 
head just visible on the top of his mound, would sit 
looking down with a complacent countenance on the 
enjoyment of his guests. Meanwhile, others would 

5 20 be running about from burrow to burrow, as if on some 
errand of the last importance to their subterranean 
commonwealth. The snakes are apparently the prai- 
rie-dog's worst enemies; at least, I think too well of 
the latter to suppose that they associate on friendly 

525 terms with these slimy intruders, who may be seen at 
all times basking among their holes, into which they 
always retreat when disturbed. Small owls, with wise 
and grave countenances, also make their abode with 
the prairie-dogs, though on what terms they live to- 

530 gether I could never ascertain. The manners and cus- 
toms, the political and domestic economy of these 
little marmots are worthy of closer attention than one 
is able to give when pushing by forced marches through 



324 THE OREGON TRAIL 

their country, with his thoughts engrossed by objects 

5 35 of greater moment. 

On the fifth day after leaving Bisonette's camp we 
saw, late in the afternoon, what we supposed to be 
a considerable stream, but, on our approaching it, 
we found to our mortification nothing but a dry bed 

5 40 of sand, into which all the water had sunk and dis- 
appeared. We separated, some riding in one di- 
rection and some in another, along its course. Still, 
we found no traces of water, not even so much as a 
wet spot in the sand. The old cotton-wood trees 

545 that grew along the bank, lamentably abused by 
lightning and tempest, were withering with the drought, 
and on the dead limbs, at the summit of the tallest, 
half a dozen crows were hoarsely cawing, like birds 
of evil omen, as they were. We had no alternative 

5 50 but to keep on. There was no water nearer than the 
South Fork of the Platte, about ten miles distant. 
We moved forward, angry and silent, over a desert as 
flat as the outspread ocean. 

The sky had been obscured since the morning by 

555 thin mists and vapors, but now vast piles of clouds 
were gathered together in the west. They rose to a 
great height above the horizon, and looking up toward 
them, I distinguished one mass darker than the rest, 
and of a peculiar conical form. I happened to look 

5 60 again, and still could see it as before. At some mo- 
ments it was dimly seen, at others its outline was sharp 
and distinct ; but while the clouds around it were shift- 
ing, changing, and dissolving away, it still towered 
aloft in the midst of them, fixed and immovable. It 

565 must, thought I, be the summit of a mountain, and yet 
its height staggered me. My conclusion was right, 
however. It was Long's Peak, once believed to be 
one of the highest of the Rocky Mountain chain, though 
more recent discoveries have proved the contrary. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



325 



5 70 The thickening gloom soon hid it from view, and we 

never saw it again, for on the following day, and 

for some time after, the air was so full of mist that 

the view of distant objects was entirely intercepted. 

It grew very late. Turning from our direct course, 

5 75 we made for the river at its nearest point, though in 
the utter darkness it was not easy to direct our way 
with much precision. Raymond rode on one side and 
Henry on the other. We could hear each of them 
shouting that he had come upon a deep ravine. We 

580 steered at random between Scylla and Charybdis, and 
soon after became, as it seemed, inextricably involved 
with deep chasms all around us, while the darkness 
was such that we could not see a rod in any direction. 
We partially extricated ourselves by scrambling, cart 

585 and all, through a shallow ravine. We came next to 
a steep descent, down which we plunged without well 
knowing what was at the bottom. There was a great 
cracking of sticks and dry twigs. Over our heads 
were certain large shadowy objects; and in front 

590 something like the faint gleaming of a dark sheet 
of water. Raymond ran his horse against a tree; 
Henry alighted, and feeling on the ground, declared 
that there was grass enough for the horses. Before 
taking off his saddle, each man led his own horses 

595 down to the water in the best way he could. Then 
picketing two or three of the evil-disposed, we turned 
the rest loose, and lay down among the dry sticks to 
sleep. In the morning we found ourselves close to the 
South Fork of the Platte, on a spot surrounded by bushes 

600 and rank grass. Compensating ourselves with a hearty 
breakfast for the ill fare of the previous night, we" set 
forward again on our journey. When only two or 
three rods from the camp I saw Shaw stop his mule, 
level his gun, and after a long aim fire at some object 

605 in the grass. Delorier next jumped forward, and be- 



326 THE OREGON TRAIL 

gan to dance about, belaboring the unseen enemy 
with a whip. Then he stooped down, and drew out 
of the grass by the neck an enormous rattlesnake, 
with his head completely shattered by Shaw's bullet. 

6io As Delorier held him out at arm's length with an exult- 
ing grin, his tail which still kept slowly writhing about, 
almost touched the ground ; and the body in the largest 
part was as thick as a stout man's arm. He had four- 
teen rattles, but the end of his tail was blunted, as if 

6 1 5 he could once have boasted of many more. From this 
time till we reached the Pueblo we killed at least four 
or five of these snakes every day, as they lay coiled 
and rattling on the hot sand. Shaw was the Saint 
Patrick of the party, and whenever he or anyone else 

620 killed a snake he always pulled off its tail and stored it 
away in his bullet-pouch, which was soon crammed 
with an edifying collection of rattles, great and small. 
Delorier with his whip also came in for a share of the 
praise. A day or two after this he triumphantly pro- 

62 5duced a small snake about a span and a half long, 
with one infant rattle at the end of its tail. 

We forded the South Fork of the Platte. On its 
farther bank were the traces of a very large camp 
of Arapahoes. The ashes of some three hundred 

630 fires were visible among the scattered trees, together 
with the remains of sweating lodges, and all the 
other appurtenances of a permanent camp. The 
place, however, had been for some months deserted. 
A few miles farther on we found more recent signs 

635 of Indians; the trail of two or three lodges, which 
had evidently passed the day before, where every 
footprint was perfectly distinct in the dry, dusty soil. 
We noticed in particular the track of one moccasin, 
upon the sole of which its economical proprietor 

640 had placed a large patch. These signs gave us but 
little uneasiness, as the number of the warriors scarcely 



THE OREGON TRAIL 3^7 

exceeded that of our own party. At noon we rested 
under the walls of a large fort, built in these solitudes 
some years since by M. St. Vrain. It was now aban- 

645 doned and fast falling into ruin. The walls of unbaked 
bricks were cracked from top to bottom. Our horses 
recoiled in terror from the neglected entrance, where 
the heavy gates were torn from their hinges and flung 
down. The area within was overgrown with weeds, 

650 and the long ranges of apartments once occupied by the 
motley concourse of traders, Canadians, and squawks, 
were now miserably dilapidated. Tw^elve miles farther 
on, near the spot where we encamped, were the remains 
of still another fort, standing in melancholy desertion 

655 and neglect. 

Early on the following morning we made a start- 
ling discovery. We passed close by a large deserted 
encampment of Arapahoes. There were about fifty 
fires still smouldering on the ground, and it was 

660 evident from numerous signs that the Indians must 
have left the place within two hours of our reaching 
it. Their trail crossed our own at right angles, and 
led in the direction of a line of hills half a mile on our 
left. There were women and children in the party, 

665 which would have greatly diminished the danger of 
encountering them. Henry Chatillon examined the 
encampment and the trail with a very professional and 
business-like air. 

"Supposing we had met them, Henry?" said I. 

670 "Why," said he, "we hold out our hands to them, 
and give them all wx've got ; they take away everything, 
and then I believe they no kill us. Perhaps," added 
he, looking up with a quiet, unchanged face, "perhaps 
we no let them rob us. Maybe before they come near, 

675 we have a chance to get into a ravine, or under the 
bank of the river; then, you know, we fight them." 
About noon on that day we reached Cherry Creek. 



32S THE OREGON TRAIL 

Here was a great abundance of wild-cherries, plums, 
gooseberries, and currants. The stream, however, 

680 like most of the others which we passed, was dried 
up with the heat, and we had to dig holes in the 
sand to find water for ourselves and our horses. Two 
days after we left the banks of the creek which we 
had been following for some time, and began to cross 

685 the high dividing ridge which separates the waters 
of the Platte from those of the Arkansas. The scenery 
was altgoether changed. In place of the burning 
plains, we were passing now through rough and savage 
glens, and among hills crowned with a dreary growth 

690 of pines. We encamped among these solitudes on the 
night of the sixteenth of August. A tempest was 
threatening. The sun went down among volumes of 
jet-black clouds, edged with a bloody red. But in 
spite of these portentous signs we neglected to put up 

69 5 the tent, and being extremely fatigued, lay down on 
the ground and fell asleep. The storm broke about 
midnight, and we erected the tent amid darkness and 
confusion. In the morning all was fair again, and 
Pike's Peak, white with snow, was towering above the 

700 wilderness afar off. 

We pushed through an extensive tract of pine 
w^oods. Large black squirrels were leaping among 
the branches. From the farther edge of this forest 
we saw the prairie again, hollowed out before us 

705 into a vast basin, and about a mile in front we could 
discern a little black speck moving upon its surface. 
It could be nothing but a buffalo. Henry primed 
his rifle afresh and galloped forward. To the left 
of the animal was a low rocky mound, of which Henry 

7 1 o availed himself in making his approach. After a short 
time we heard the faint report of the rifle. The bull, 
mortally wounded from a distance of nearly three 
hundred yards, ran wildly round and round in a circle. 



THK OREGON TRAIL 329 

Shaw and I then galloped forward, and passing him 

7 1 5 as he ran foaming with rage and pain, we discharged 
our pistols into his side. Once or twice he rushed 
furiously upon us, but his strength was rapidly ex- 
hausted. Down he fell on his knees. For one instant 
he glared up at his enemies, with burning eyes, through 

7 20 his black tangled mane, and then rolled over on his 
side. Though gaunt and thin, he was larger and 
heavier than the largest ox. Foam and blood flew 
together from his nostrils as he lay bellowing and 
pawing the ground, tearing up grass and earth with 

725 his hoofs. His sides rose and fell like a vast pair of 
bellows, the blood spouting up in jets from the bullet- 
holes. Suddenly his glaring eyes became like a lifeless 
jelly. He lay motionless on the ground. Henry 
stooped over him, and making an incision with his 

7 30 knife, pronounced the meat too rank and tough for 
use; so, disappointed in our hopes of an addition 
to our stock of provisions, we rode away and left 
the carcass to the wolves. 

In the afternoon we saw the mountains rising like 

735 a gigantic wall at no great distance on our right. 
^' Des sauvagesi des sauvages!^^ exclaimed Delorier, 
looking around with a frightened face, and point- 
ing with his whip toward the foot of the mountains. 
In fact, we could see at a distance a number of little 

740 black specks, like horsemen in rapid motion. Henry 
Chatillon, with Shaw and myself, galloped toward 
them to reconnoitre, when, to our amusement, we 
saw the supposed Arapahoes resolved into the black 
tops of some pine trees which grew along a ravine. 

745 The summits of these pines, just visible above the 
verge of the prairie, and seeming to move as we 
ourselves were advancing, looked exactly like a line 
of horsemen. 

We encamped among ravines and hollows, through 



3SO THE OREGON TRAIL 

7 50 which a little brook was foaming angrily. Before 
sunrise in the morning the snow-covered mountains 
were beautifully tinged with a dehcate rose color. 
A noble spectacle awaited us as we moved forward. 
Six or eight miles on our right, Pike's Peak and his 

75 5 giant brethren rose out of the level prairie, as if spring- 
ing from the bed of the ocean. From their summits 
down to the plain below they were involved in a mantle 
of clouds, in restless motion, as if urged by strong winds. 
For one instant some snowy peak, towering in awful soli- 

76otude, would be disclosed to view. As the clouds broke 
along the mountain, we could see the dreary forests, 
the tremendous precipices, the white patches of snow, 
the gulfs and chasms as black as night, all revealed 
for an instant, and then disappearing from the view. 

765 One could not but recall the stanza of Childe Harold : 

"Mom dawns, and with it stern Albania's hills, 
Dark SuH's rocks, and Pindus' inland peak, 
R®bed half in mist, bedewed with snowy rills, 
Array'd in many a dun and purple streak, 
770 Arise; and, as the clouds along them break, 

Disclose the dwelling of the mountaineer: 
Here roams the wolf, the eagle whets his beak, 
Birds, beasts of prey, and wilder men appear, 
And gathering storms around convulse the closing year." 

775 Every line save one of this description was more 
than verihed here. There were no "dwellings of 
the mountaineer ' ' among these heights. Fierce savages 
restlessly wandering through summer and winter, alone 
invade them. "Their hand is against every man, 

780 and every man's hand against them." 

On the day after, we had left the mountains at 
some distance. A black cloud descended upon 
them, and a tremendous explosion of thunder fol- 
lowed, reverberating among the precipices. In a 

785 few moments everything grew black, and the rain 



THE OREGON TRAIL 331 

poured down like a cataract. We got under an old 

cotton-wood tree, which stood by the side of a stream, 

and waited there till the rage of the torrent had passed. 

The clouds opened at the point where they first 

790 had gathered, and the whole subhme congregation 
of mountains was bathed at once in warm sunshine. 
They seemed more like some luxurious vision of eastern 
romance than hke a reality of that wilderness; all were 
melted together into a soft delicious blue, as voluptuous 

795 as the sky of Naples or the transparent sea that washes 
the sunny cliffs of Capri. On the left the whole sky 
was still of an inky blackness; but two concentric 
rainbows stood in brilhant relief against it, while far 
in front the ragged cloud still streamed before the wind, 

800 and the retreating thunder muttered angrily. 

Through that afternoon and the next morning we 
were passing down the banks of the stream called 
"La Fontaine qui Bouille," from the boiling spring 
whose waters flow into it. When we stopped at 

805 noon we were within six or eight miles of the Pueblo. 
Setting out again, we found by the fresh tracks that a 
horseman had just been out to reconnoitre us; he had 
circled half round the camp, and then galloped back 
full speed for the Pueblo. W^hat made him so shy of 

8 10 us we could not conceive. After an hour's ride we 
reached the edge of a hill, from which a w^elcome sight 
greeted us. The Arkansas ran along the valley below, 
among woods and groves, and closely nestled in the 
midst of wide corn-fields and green meadows, where 

8 1 5 cattle were grazing, rose the low mud walls of the 
Pueblo. 



CHAPTER XXI 



THE PUEBLO AND BENT S FORT 

"It came to pass, that when he did address 

Himself to quit at length this mountain land, 
Combined marauders half-way barred egress, 

And wasted far and near with glaive and brand. " 

— Childe Harold 

5 We approached the gate of the Pueblo. It was a 
wretched species of fort, of most primitive construc- 
tion, being nothing more than a large square inclosure, 
surrounded by a wall of mud, miserably cracked and 
dilapidated. The slender pickets that surmounted it 

1 o were half -broken down, and the gate dangled on its 

wooden hinges so loosely that to open or shut it seemed 
likely to fling it down altogether. Two or three squalid 
Mexicans, with their broad hats, and their vile faces 
overgrown with hair, were lounging about the bank 

1 5 of the river in front of it. They disappeared as they 
saw us approach ; and as we rode up to the gate, a light, 
active, little figure came out to meet us. It was our 
old friend Richard. He had come from Fort Laramie 
on a trading expedition to Taos; but finding when he 

20 reached the Pueblo that the war would prevent his 
going farther, he was quietly waiting till the conquest 
of the country should allow him to proceed. He 
seemed to consider himself bound to do the honors of 
the place. Shaking us warmly by the hand, he led the 

2 5 way into the area. 

Here we saw his large Santa Fe wagons standing 
332 



THE OREGON TRAIL .113 

together. A few squaws and Spanish women, and 
a few Mexicans, as mean and miserable as the place 
itself, were lazily sauntering about » Richard con- 

deducted us to the state apartment of the Pueblo.^ A 
small mud room, very neatly finished, considering 
the material, and garnished with a crucifix, a look- 
ing-glass, a picture of the Virgin, and a rusty horse- 
pistol. There were no chairs, but instead of them 

35 a number of chests and boxes ranged about the room. 
There was another room beyond, less sumptuously 
decorated, and here three or four Spanish girls, one of 
them very pretty, were baking cakes at a mud fireplace 
in the corner. They brought out a poncho, which 

40 they spread upon the floor by way of table-cloth. 
A supper, which seemed to us luxurious, was soon 
laid out upon it, and folded buffalo-robes were placed 
around it to receive the guests. Twoor three Americans 
besides ourselves were present. We sat down Turkish 

4 5 fashion, and began to inquire the news. Richard 

told us that about three weeks before General Kear- 
ney's army had left Bent's Fort to march against 
Santa Fe; that when last heard from they were ap- 
proaching the mountainous defiles that led to the 
50 city. One of the Americans produced a dingy news- 
paper containing an account of the battles of Palo 
Alto and Resaca de la Palma. While we were dis- 
cussing these matters, the doorw^ay was darkened 
by a tall, shambling fellow, who stood with his hands 

5 5 in his pockets, taking a leisurely survey of the premises 

before he entered. He wore brown homespun panta- 
loons, much too short for his legs, and a pistol and 
Bowie-knife stuck in his belt. His head and one eye 
were enveloped in a huge bandage of white linen. 
60 Having completed his observations, he came slouching 
in, and sat down on a chest. Eight or ten more of 
the same stamp followed, and, very coolly arranging 



334 THE OREGON TRAIL 

themselves about the room, began to stare at the com- 
pany. Shaw and I looked at each other. We were 

65 forcibly reminded of the Oregon emigrants, though 
these unwelcome visitors had a certain glitter of the 
eye, and a compression of the Hps, which distinguished 
them from our old acquaintances of the prairie. They 
began to catechise us at once, inquiring whence we 

70 had come, what we meant to do next, and what were 
our future prospects in life. 

The man with the bandaged head had met with an 
untoward accident a few days before. He was going 
down to the river to bring water, and was pushing 

7 5 through the young willows which covered the low 
ground, when he came unawares upon a grizzly 
bear, which having just eaten a buffalo-bull, had 
lain down to sleep off the meal. The bear rose on 
his hind legs, and gave the intruder such a blow 

80 with his paw that he laid his forehead entirely bare, 
clawed off the front of his scalp, and narrowly missed 
one of his eyes. Fortunately he was not in a very 
pugnacious mood, being surfeited with his late meal. 
The man's companions, who were close behind, 

85 raised a shout, and the bear walked away, crushing 
down the willows in his leisurely retreat. 

These men belonged to a party of Mormons, who, 
out of a well-grounded fear of the other emigrants, 
had postponed leaving the settlements until all the 

90 rest were gone. On account of this delay they did 
not reach Fort Laramie until it was too late to con- 
tinue their journey to California. Hearing that there 
was good land at the head of the Arkansas, they 
crossed over under the guidance of Richard, and 

9 5 were now preparing to spend the winter at a spot 
about half a mile from the Pueblo. 

When we took leave of Richard it was near sun- 
set. Passing out of the gate, we could look down 



THE OREGON TRAIL 33S 

the little valley of the Arkansas; a beautiful scene, 

100 and doubly so to our eyes, so long accustomed to 
deserts and mountains. Tall woods lined the river 
with green meadows on either hand ; and high bluffs, 
quietly basking in the sunlight, flanked the narrow 
valley. A Mexican on horseback was driving a 

105 herd of cattle toward the gate, and our little white 
tent, which the men had pitched under a large tree 
in the meadow, made a very pleasing feature in the 
scene. When we reached it, we found that Richard 
had sent a Mexican to bring us an abundant supply 

1 10 of green corn and vegetables, and invite us to help 
ourselves to whatever we wished from the fields 
around the Pueblo. 

The inhabitants were in daily apprehension of an 
inroad from more formidable consumers than our- 

1 1 5 selves. Every year, at the time when the corn begins 
to ripen, the Arapahoes, to the number of several 
thousands, come and encamp around the Pueblo. 
The handful of white men, who are entirely at the 
mercy of this swarm of barbarians, choose to make 

1 20 merit of necessity; they come forward very cordially, 
shake them by the hand, and intimate that the harvest 
is entirely at their disposal. The Arapahoes take them 
at their word, help themselves most liberally, and 
usually turn their horses into the cornfields afterward. 

1 2 5 They have the foresight, however, to leave enough of the 
crops untouched to serve as an inducement for plant- 
ing the fields again for their benefit in the next spring. 
The human race in this part of the world is sepa- 
rated into three divisions, arranged in the order of 

1 30 their merits; white men, Indians, and Mexicans; to 
the latter of whom the honorable title of "whites" is 
by no means conceded. 

In spite of the warm sunset of that evening, the 
next morning was a dreary and cheerless one. It 



336 THE OREGON TRAIL 

135 rained steadily, clouds resting upon the very tree- 
tops. We crossed the river to visit the Mormon 
settlement.' As we passed through the water, several 
trappers on horseback entered it from the other 
side. Their buckskin frocks were soaked through 

1 40 by the rain, and clung fast to their limbs with a 
most clammy and uncomfortable look. The water 
was trickling down their faces, and drooping from 
the ends of their rifles and from the traps which 
each carried at the pommel of his saddle. Horses 

145 and all, they had a most disconsolate and woebegone 
appearance, which we could not help laughing at, 
forgetting how often we ourselves had been in a 
similar plight. 

After half an hour's riding we saw the white wagons 

1 50 of the Mormons drawn up among the trees. Axes 
were sounding, trees were falling, and log-huts going 
up along the edge of the woods and upon the adjoining 
meadow. As we came up the Mormons left their 
work and seated themselves on the timber around us, 

155 when they began earnestly to discuss points of the- 
ology, complain of the ill usage they had received from 
the "Gentiles," and sound a lamentation over the loss 
of their great temple of Nauvoo. After remaining with 
them an hour we rode back to our camp, happy that 

1 60 the settlements had been delivered from the presence 
of such blind and desperate fanatics. 

On the morning after this we left the Pueblo for 
Bent's Fort. The conduct of Raymond had lately 
been less satisfactory than before, and we had dis- 

165 charged him as soon as we arrived at the former 
place; so that the party, ourselves included, was 
now reduced to four. There was some uncertainty 
as to our future course. The trail between Bent's 
Fort and the settlements, a distance computed at 

1 70 six hundred miles, was at this time in a dangerous 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



337 



State; for, since the passage of General Kearney's 
army, great numbers of hostile Indians, chiefly Pawnees 
and Comanches, had gathered about some parts of it. 
A little after this time they became so numerous and 

1 75 audacious that scarcely a single party, however large, 
passed between the fort and the frontier without some 
token of their hostility. The newspapers of the time 
sufficiently display this state of things. Many men 
were killed, and great numbers of horses and mules 

1 80 carried off. Not long since I met with a gentleman, 
who, during the autumn, came from Santa Fe to Bent's 
Fort, where he found a party of seventy men, who 
thought themselves too weak to go down to the settle- 
ments alone, and were waiting there for a reinforce- 

iSsment. Though this excessive timidity fully proves 
the ignorance and credulity of the men, it may also 
evince the state of alarm which prevailed in the coun- 
try. When we were there in the month of August the 
danger had not become so great. There was nothing 

190 very attractive in the neighborhood. We supposed, 
moreover, that we might wait there half the winter 
without finding any party to go down with us ; for Mr. 
Sublette and the others whom we had relied upon 
had, as Richard told us, already left Bent's Fort. 

195 Thus far on our journey fortune had kindly befriended 
us. We resolved, therefore, to take advantage of her 
gracious mood, and trusting for a continuance of her 
favors, to set out with Henry and Delorier, and run the 
gauntlet of the Indians in the best way we could. 

200 Bent's Fort stands on the river, about seventy- 
five miles below the Pueblo. At noon of the third 
day we arrived within three or four miles of it, pitched 
our tent under a tree, hung our looking-glasses against 
its trunk, and having made our primitive toilet, rode 

205 toward the fort. We soon came in sight of it, for it is 
visible from a considerable distance, standing with its 



338 THE OREGON TRAIL 

high clay walls in the midst of the scorching plains. 
It seemed as if a swarm of locusts had invaded the coun- 
try. The grass for miles around was cropped close 

2 1 o by the horses of General Kearney's soldiery. When we 
came to the fort we found that not only had the horses 
eaten up the grass, but their owners had made way 
with the stores of the little trading-posts; so that we 
had great difhculty in procuring the few articles which 

21 5 we required for our homeward journey. The army 
was gone, the life and bustle passed away, and the 
fort was a scene of dull and lazy tranquillity. A few 
invalid officers and soldiers sauntered about the area, 
which was oppressively hot; for the glaring sun was 

2 2o reflected down upon it from the high white walls around. 
The proprietors were absent, and we were received by 
Mr. Holt, who had been left in charge of the fort. He 
invited us to dinner, where, to our admiration, we found 
a table laid with a white cloth, with castors in the 

225 centre and chairs placed around it. This unwonted 
repast concluded, we rode back to our camp. 

Here, as we lay smoking round the fire after supper, 
we saw through the dusk three men approaching from 
the direction of the fort. They rode up and seated 

2 30 themselves near us on the ground. The foremost 
was a tall, well-formed man, with a face and manner 
such as inspire confidence at once. He wore a broad 
hat of felt, slouching and tattered, and the rest of his 
attire consisted of a frock and leggings of buckskin, 

235 rubbed with the yellow clay found among the moun- 
tains. At the heel of one of his moccasins was buckled 
a huge iron spur, with a rowel five or six inches in diam- 
eter. His horse, who stood quietly looking over his 
head, had a rude Mexican saddle, covered with a 

2 40 shaggy bear-skin, and furnished with a pair of wooden 
stirrups of most preposterous size. The next man 
was a sprightly, active little fellow, about five feet and 



THE OREGON TRAIL 339 

a quarter high, but very strong and compact. His 
face was swarthy as a Mexican's, and covered with a 

245 close, curly, black beard. An old greasy calico hand- 
kerchief was tied round his head, and his close buck- 
skin dress was blackened and polished by grease and 
hard service. The last who came up was a large, 
strong man, dressed in the coarse homespun of the 

250 frontiers, who dragged his long limbs over the ground 
as if he were too lazy for the effort. He had a sleepy 
gray eye, a retreating chin, an open mouth, and a pro- 
truding upper lip, which gave him an air of exquisite 
indolence and helplessness. He was armed with an 

255 old United States yager, which redoubtable weapon, 
though he could never hit his mark with it, he w^as 
accustomed to cherish as the very sovereign of fire- 
arms. 

The first tw^o men belonged to a party who had 

260 just come from California, with a large band of horses, 
which they had disposed of at Bent's Fort. Munroe, 
the taller of the two, was from Iowa. He was an ex- 
cellent fellow, open, w^ arm-hearted, and intelligent. 
Jim Gurney, the short man, was a Boston sailor, who 

265 had come in a trading- vessel to California, and taken 
the fancy to return across the continent. The journey 
had already made him an expert "mountain man," 
and he presented the extraordinary phenomenon of a 
sailor who understood how to manage a horse. The 

2 70 third of our visitors, named Ellis, was a Missourian, 
who had come out with a party of Oregon emigrants, 
but having got as far as Bridge's Fort, he had fallen 
home-sick, or as Jim averred, love-sick — and Ellis 
was just the man to be balked in a love adventure. 

275 He thought proper, therefore, to join the California 
men, and returned homeward in their company. 

They now requested that they might unite with 
our party, and make the journey to the settlements 



340 . THE OREGON TRAIL 

in company with us. We readily assented, for we 
2 80 liked the appearance of the first two men, and were 
very glad to gain so efficient a reinforcement. We 
told them to meet us on the next evening at a spot 
on the river side, about six miles below the fort. Hav- 
ing smoked a pipe together, our new allies left us, and 
285 we lay down to sleep. 



CHAPTER XXII 

TETE ROUGE, THE VOLUNTEER 

"Ah me! what evils do environ 
The man that meddles with cold iron." 

— Hudibras 

The next morning, having directed Delorier to 
repair with his cart to the place of meeting, we came 
5 again to the fort to make some arrangements for 
the journey. After completing these, we sat down 
under a sort of porch, to smoke with some Cheyenne 
Indians whom we found there. In a few minutes 
we saw an extraordinary httle figure approach us 

loin a mihtary dress. He had a small, round coun- 
tenance, garnished about the eyes with the kind of 
wrinkles, commonly known as crow's feet, and sur- 
mounted by an abundant crop of red curls, with a 
little cap resting on the top of them. Altogether, 

1 5 he had the look of a man more conversant with mint- 
juleps and oyster-suppers than with the hardships of 
prairie-service. He came up to us and entreated that 
we would take him home to the settlements, saying 
that unless he went with us he should have to stay all 

20 winter at the fort. We liked our petitioner's appear- 
ance so little that we excused ourselves from complying 
with his rec^uest. At this he begged us so hard to take 
pity on him, looked so disconsolate, and told so lament- 
able a story, that at last we consented, though not with- 

2 5 out many misgivings. 

The rugged Anglo-Saxon of our new recruit's real 

341 



342 THE OREGON TRAIL 

name proved utterly unmanageable on the lips of 
our French attendants, and Henry Chatillon, after 
various abortive attempts to pronounce it, one day 

30 coolly christened him Tete Rouge, in honor of his 
red curls. He had at different times been clerk of 
a Mississippi steamboat, and agent in a trading 
establishment at Nauvoo, besides filling various other 
capacities, in all of which he had seen much more 

3 5 of "life" than was good for him. In the spring, 
thinking that a summer's campaign would be an 
agreeable recreation, he had joined a company of St. 
Louis volunteers. 

"There were three of us," said Tete Rouge, "me 

40 and Bill Stephens and John Hopkins. We thought 
we would just go out with the army, and when we had 
conquered the country, we would get discharged and 
take our pay, you know, and go down to Mexico. 
They say there is plenty of fun going on there. 

45 Then we could go back to New Orleans by way of 
Vera Cruz." 

But Tete Rouge, like many a stouter volunteer, 
had reckoned without his host. Fighting Mexicans 
was a less amusing occupation than he had sup- 

50 posed, and his pleasure-trip was disagreeably inter- 
rupted by brain-fever, which attacked him when 
about half-way to Bent's Fort. He jolted along 
through the rest of the journey in a baggage-wagon. 
When they came to the fort he was taken out and 

5 5 left there, together with the rest of the sick. Bent's 
Fort does not supply the best accommodations for 
an invalid. Tete Rouge's sick chamber was a little 
mud room, where he and a companion, attacked by 
the same disease, were laid together, with nothing 

60 but a buffalo-robe between them and the ground. 
The assistant surgeon's deputy visited them once a 
day and brought them each a huge dose of calomel, 



THE OREGON TRAIL 343 

the only medicine, according to his surviving victim, 
with which he was acquainted. 

65 Tete Rouge woke one morning, and, turning to 
his companion, saw his eyes fixed upon the beams 
above with the glassy stare of a dead man. At this 
the unfortunate volunteer lost his senses outright. 
In spite of the doctor, however, he eventually re- 

70 covered; though between the brain-fever and the 
calomel, his mind, originally none of the strongest, 
was so much shaken that it had not quite recovered 
its balance when we came to the fort. In spite of 
the poor fellow's tragic story, there was something 

7 5 so ludicrous in his appearance, and the whimsical 
contrast between his military dress and his most 
unmilitary demeanor, that we could not help smiling 
at them. We asked him if he had a gim. He said 
they had taken it from him during his illness, and 

80 he had not seen it since; but perhaps, he observed, 
looking at me with a beseeching air, you will lend 
me one of your big pistols i^ we should meet with 
any Indians. I next incjuired if he had a horse; 
he declared he had a magnificent one, and at Shaw's 

85 request, a Mexican led him in for inspection. He 
exhibited the outline of a good horse, but his eyes were 
sunk in the sockets, and every one of his ribs could be 
counted. There were certain marks, too, about his 
shoulders, which could be accounted for by the circum- 

90 stance that, during Tete Rouge's illness, his compan- 
ions had seized upon the insulted charger, and har- 
nessed him to a cannon along with the draft horses. 
To Tete Rouge's astonishment, we recommended him 
by all means to exchange the horse, if he could, for a 

95 mule. Fortunately the people at the fort were so 
anxious to get rid of him that they were willing to 
make some sacrifice to effect the object, and he suc- 
ceeded in getting a tolerable mule in exchange for the 
broken-down steed. 



344 THK OREGON TRAIL 

loo A man soon appeared at the gate, leading in the 
mule by a cord, which he placed in the hands of 
Tete Rouge, who, being somewhat afraid of his new 
acquisition, tried various flatteries and blandishments 
to induce her to come forward. The mule, knowing 

105 that she was expected to advance, stopped short in 
consequence, and stood fast as a rock, looking 
straight forward with immovable composure. Being 
stimulated by a blow from behind, she consented to 
move, and walked nearly to the other side of the 

1 10 fort before she stopped again. Hearing the by- 
standers laugh, Tete Rouge plucked up spirit and 
tugged hard at the rope. The mule jerked back- 
ward, spun herself round, and made a dash for the 
gate. Tete Rouge; who clung manfully to the rope, 

1 15 went whisking through the air for a few rods, when 
he let go and stood with his mouth open, staring 
after the mule, who galloped away over the prairie. 
She was soon caught and brought back by a Mexi- 
can, who mounted a horse and went in pursuit of 

i2cher with his lasso. 

Having thus displayed his capacities for prairie 
travelling, Tete proceeded to supply himself with 
provisions for the journey; and with this view he 
applied to a quarter- master's assistant who was in 

125 the fort. This official had a face as sour as vinegar, 
being in a state of chronic indignation because he 
had been left behind the army. He was as anxious 
as the rest to get rid of Tete Rouge. So, producing 
a rusty key, he opened a low door which led to a 

1 30 half -subterranean apartment, into which the two 
disappeared together. After some time they came 
out again, Tete Rouge greatly embarrassed by a 
multiplicity of paper parcels containing the different 
articles of his forty days' rations. They were con- 

135 signed to the care of Delorier, who about that time 



THE OREGON TRAIL 345 

passed by with the cart on his way to the appointed 
place of meeting with Miinroe and his companions. 
We next urged Tete Rouge to provide himself, if 
he could, with a gun. He accordingly made earnest 
1 40 appeals to the charity of various persons in the fort, 
but totally wdthout success, a circumstance which 
did not greatly disturb us, since in the event of a 
skirmish, he would be much more apt to do mis- 
chief to himself or his friends than to the enemy. 
MsWhen all these arrangements were completed we 
saddled our horses, and were preparing to leave 
the fort, when, looking around, we discovered that 
our new associate was in fresh trouble. A man was 
holding the mule for him in the middle of the fort, 
1 50 while he tried to put the saddle on her back, but 
she kept stepping sideways and moving round and 
round in a circle, until he was almost in despair. 
■ It required some assistance before all his difficukies 
could be overcome. At length, he clambered into 
1 55 the black war-saddle on which he w^as to have car- 
ried terror into the ranks of the Mexicans. 

''Get up!" said Tete Rouge; "come now, go 
along, will you?" 

The mule w^alked deliberately for^vard out of the 
1 60 gate. Her recent conduct had inspired him with so 
much aw^e that he never dared to touch her with his 
whip. We trotted forw^ard toward the place of meet- 
ing, but before w^e had gone far we saw that Tete 
Rouge's mule, who perfectly understood her rider, 
1 65 had stopped and was quietly grazing, in spite of his 
protestations, at some distance behind. So, getting 
behind him, we drove him and the contumacious 
mule before us, until we could see through the twi- 
light the gleaming of a distant fire. Munroe, Jim, 
1 70 and Ellis were lying around it; their saddles, packs, 
and weapons were scattered about and their horses 



346 THE OREGON TRAIL 

picketed near them. Delorier was there, too, with 
our httle cart. Another fire was soon blazing high. 
We invited our new alHes to take a cup of coffee 

1 75 with us. When both the others had gone over to 
their side of the camp, Jim Gurney still stood by 
the blaze, puffing hard at his little black pipe, as 
short and weather-beaten as himself. 

"Weill" he said, "here are eight of us; we'll 

1 80 call it six — for them two boobies, EUis over yonder, 
and that new man of yours, won't count for any- 
thing. We'll get through well enough, never fear 
for that, unless the Comanches happen to get foul 
of us." 



CHAPTER XXIII 

INDIAN ALARMS 



'To all the sensual world proclaim, 

One crowded hour of glorious life 
Were worth an age without a name. " — Scott 



We began our journey for the frontier settlements 
son the twenty-seventh of August, and certainly a 
more ragamulhn cavalcade never was seen on the 
banks of the Up^ier Arkansas. Of the large and 
fine horses with which we had left the frontier in the 
spring, not one remained: we had supphed the-ir 

1 o place with the rough breed of the prairie, as hardy 

as mules and almost as ugly; we had also with us 
a number of the latter detestable animals. In spite 
of their strength and hardihood, several of the band 
were already worn down by hard service and hard 

1 5 fare, and as none of them were shod, they were fast 
becoming foot-sore. Every horse and mule had a 
cord of twisted bull-hide coiled around his neck, 
which by no means added to the beauty of his ap- 
pearance. Our saddles and all our equipments 

20 were by this time lamentably worn and battered 
and our weapons had become dull and rusty. The 
dress of the riders fully corresponded with the dilapi- 
dated furniture of our horses, and of the whole party 
none made a more disreputable appearance than my 

2 5 friend and I. Shaw had for an upper garment an old 

red flannel shirt, flying open in front, and belted around 

347 



348 THE OREGON TRAIL 

him like a frock ; while I in absence of other clothing, 
was attired in a time-worn suit of leather. 

Thus, happy and careless as so many beggars, 

30 we crept slowly from day to day along the monot- 
onous banks of the Arkansas. Tete Rouge gave 
constant trouble, for he could never catch his 
mule, saddle her, or, indeed, do anything else 
without assistance. Every day he had some new 

35 ailment, real or imaginary, to complain of. At 
one moment he would be wo^e-begone and dis- 
consolate, and at the next he would be visited with 
a violent flow of spirits, to which he could only 
give vent by incessant laughing, whistling, and telling 

40 stories. When other resources failed we used to amuse 
ourselves by tormenting him; a fair compensation for 
the trouble he cost us. Tete Rouge rather enjoyed 
being laughed at for he was an odd compound of 
weakness, eccentricity, and good nature. He made 

45a figure worthy of a painter as he paced along before 
us, perched on the back of his mule, and enveloped in 
a huge buffalo-robe coat, which some charitable per- 
son had given him at the fort. This extraordinary 
garment, which would have contained two men of his 

50 size, he chose, for some reason best known to himself, 
to wear inside out, and he never took it off, even in 
the hottest weather. It was fluttering all over with 
seams and tatters, and the hide was so old and rotten 
that it broke out every day in a new place. Just at 

5 5 the top of it a large pile of red curls was visible, with 
his little cap set jauntily upon one side, to give him a 
military air. His seat in the saddle was no less re- 
markable than his person and equipment. He pressed 
one leg close against his mule's side, and thrust the other 

60 out at an angle of forty-five degrees. His pantaloons 
were decorated with a military red stripe, of which he 
was extremely vain; but being much too short, the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 349 

whole length of his boots was usually visible below 
them. His blanket, loosely rolled up into a large 

65 bundle, dangled at the back of his saddle, where he 
carried it tied with a string. Four or five times a day it 
would fall to the ground. Every few minutes he 
would drop his pipe, his knife, his flint and steel, or 
a piece of tobacco, and have to scramble down to 

70 pick them up. In doing this he would contrive to 
get in everybody's way; and as the most of the party 
were by no means remarkable for a fastidious choice 
of language, a storm of anathemas would be showered 
upon him, half in earnest and half in jest, until Tete 

7 5 Rouge would declare that there was no comfort in 
life, and that he never saw such fellows before. 

Only a day or two after leaving Bent's Fort, Henry 
Chatillon rode forward to hunt, and took Ellis along 
with him. After they had been some time absent 

80 we saw them coming down the hill, driving three 
dragoon-horses, which had escaped from their owners 
on the march, or perhaps had given out and been 
abandoned. One of them was in tolerable condition, 
but the others were much emaciated and severely bitten 

85 by the wolves. Reduced as they were, we carried two 
of them to the settlements, and Henry exchanged the 
third with the Arapahoes for an excellent mule. 

On the day after, when we had stopped to rest at 
noon, a long train of Santa Fe wagons came up and 

90 trailed slowly past us in their picturesque procession. 
They belonged to a trader named Magofhn, whose 
brother, with a number of other men, came over and 
sat down around us on the grass. The news they 
brought was not of the most pleasing complexion. 

9 5 According to their accounts the trail below was in a 
very dangerous state. They had repeatedly detected 
Indians prowling at night around their camps; and 
the large party which had left Bent's Fort a few 



350 THE OREGON TRAIL 

weeks previous to our own departure had been at- 

loo tacked, and a man named Swan, from Massachu- 
setts, had been killed. His companions had buried 
the body; but when Magoffin found his grave, which 
was near a place called ''The Caches," the Indians 
had dug up and scalped him, and the wolves had 

I o 5 shockingly mangled his remains. As an offset to 
this intelligence, they gave us the welcome informa- 
tion that the buffalo were numerous at a few days' 
journey below. 

On the next afternoon, as we moved along the 

no bank of the river, we saw the white tops of wagons 
on the horizon. It was some hours before we met 
them, when they proved to be a train of clumsy ox- 
wagons, quite different from the rakish vehicles of 
the Santa Fe traders, and loaded with government 

115 stores for the troops. They all stopped, and the 
drivers gathered around us in a crowd. I thought 
that the whole frontier might have been ransacked 
in vain to furnish men worse fitted to meet the dan- 
gers of the prairie. Many of them were mere boys, 

1 20 fresh from the plough, and devoid of knowledge 
and experience. In respect to the state of the trail, 
they confirmed all that the Santa Fe men had told 
us. In passing between the Pawnee Fork and "The 
Caches," their sentinels had fired every night at real 

1 25 or imaginary Indians. They said also that Ewing, a 
young Kentuckian in the party that had gone down 
before us, had shot an Indian who was prowling at 
evening about the camp. Some of them advised us 
to tvu-n back, and others to hasten forward as fast as 

1 30 we could; but they all seemed in such a state of 
feverish anxiety, and so little capable of cool judg- 
ment, that we attached slight weight to what they 
said. They next gave us a more definite piece of 
intelligence; a large village of Arapahoes was en- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 351 

135 camped on the river below. They represented them 
to be quite friendly; but some distinction was to be 
made between a party of thirty men, travelling with 
oxen, which are of no value in an Indian's eyes, and 
a mere handful like ourselves, with a tempting band 

1 40 of mules and horses. This story of the Arapahoes, 
therefore, caused us some anxiety. 

Just after leaving the government wagons, as Shaw 
and I were riding along a narrow passage between 
the river-bank and a rough hill that pressed close 

145 upon it, we heard Tete Rouge's voice behind us. 
" Halloo 1" he called out; ''I say, stop the cart just 
for a minute, will you?" 

"What's the matter, Tete?" asked Shaw, as he 
came riding up to us with a grin of exultation. He 

1 50 had a bottle of molasses in one hand, and a large 
bundle of hides on the saddle before him, contain- 
ing, as he triumphantly informed us, sugar, biscuits, 
coffee, and rice. These supplies he had obtained by 
a stratagem on which he greatly plumed himself, and 

155 he was extremely vexed and astonished that we did 
not fall in with his views of the matter. He had told 
Coates, the master-wagoner, that the commissary at 
the fort had given him an order for sick-rations, di- 
rected to the master of any government train which 

1 60 he might meet upon the road. This order he had 
unfortunately lost, but he hoped that the rations 
would not be refused on that account, as he was suffer- 
ing from coarse fare and needed them very much. 
As soon as he came to camp that night, Tete Rouge 

165 repaired to the box at the back of the cart, where 
Delorier used to keep his culinary apparatus, took 
possession of a saucepan, and after building a little 
fire of his own, set to work preparing a meal out of 
his ill-gotten booty. This done, he seized upon a 

1 70 tin plate and spoon, and sat down under the cart to 



352 THE OREGON TRAIL 

regale himself. His preliminary repast did not at 
all prejudice his subsequent exertions at supper; 
where, in spite of his miniature dimensions, he made 
a better figure than any of us. Indeed, about this 

1 75 time his appetite grew quite voracious. He began 
to thrive wonderfully. His small body visibly ex- 
panded, and his cheeks, which when we first took 
him were rather yellow and cadaverous, now dilated 
in a wonderful manner, and became ruddy in pro- 

1 80 portion. Tete Rouge, in short, began to appear like 
another man. 

Early in the afternoon of the next day, looking 
along the edge of the horizon in front, we saw that 
at one point it was faintly marked with pale inden- 

i85tations, like the teeth of a saw. The lodges of the 
Arapahoes, rising between us and the sky, caused 
this singular appearance. It wanted still two or three 
hours of sunset when we came opposite their camp. 
There were full two hundred lodges standing in the 

190 midst of a grassy meadow at some distance beyond 
the river, while for a mile around and on either bank 
of the Arkansas were scattered some fifteen hundred 
horses and mules, grazing together in bands, or 
wandering singly about the prairie. The whole were 

1 9 5 visible at once, for the vast expanse was unbroken 
by hills, and there was not a tree or a bush to inter- 
cept the view. 

Here and there walked an Indian, engaged in 
watching the horses. No sooner did we see them 

200 than Tete Rouge begged Delorier to stop the cart 
and hand him his little military jacket, which was 
stowed away there. In this he instantly invested 
himself, having for once laid the old buffalo coat 
aside, assumed a most martial posture in the saddle, 

205 set his cap over his left eye with an air of defiance, 
and earnestly entreated that somebody would lend 



THE OREGON TRAIL 353 

him a gun or a pistol only for half an hour. Being 
called upon to explain these remarkable proceedings, 
Tete Rouge observed that he knew from experience 

2iowhat effect the presence of a military man in his 
uniform always had upon the mind of an Indian, 
and he thought the Arapahoes ought to know that 
there was a soldier in the party. 

Meeting Arapahoes here on the Arkansas was a 

2 15 very different thing from meeting the same Indians 
among their native mountains. There was another 
circumstance in our favor. General Kearney had 
seen them a few weeks before, as he came up the 
river with his army, and renewing his threats of the 

2 20 previous year, he told them that if they ever again 
touched the hair of a white man's head he would 
exterminate their nation. This placed them for the 
time in an admirable frame of mind, and the effect 
of his menaces had not yet disappeared. I was 

225 anxious to see the village and its inhabitants. We 
thought it also our best poHcy to visit them openly, 
as if unsuspicious of any hostile design; and Shaw 
and I, with Henry Chatillon, prepared to cross the 
river. The rest of the party meanwhile moved for- 

2 30 ward as fast as they could, in order to get as far as 
possible from our suspicious neighbors before night 
came on. 

The Arkansas at this point, and for several hundred 
miles below, is nothing but a broad sand-bed, over 

235 which a few scanty threads of water are swiftly gliding, 
now and then expanding into wide shallows. ^ At 
several places, during the autumn, the water sinks 
into the sand and disappears aUogether. At this 
season, were it not for the numerous quicksands, 

2 40 the river might be forded almost anywhere without 
difhcuky, though its channel is often a quarter of a 
mile wide. Our horses jumped down the bank, and 



354 THE OREGON TRAIL 

wading through the water, or galloping freely over 
the hard sand-beds, soon reached the other side. 

245 Here, as we were pushing through the tall grass, we 
saw several Indians not far off; one of them waited 
until we came up, and stood for some moments in 
perfect silence before us, looking at us askance with 
his little snake-like eyes. Henry explained by signs 

250 what we wanted, and the Indian, gathering his buffalo- 
robe about his shoulders, led the way toward the village 
without speaking a word. 

The language of the Arapahoes is so difficult, and 
its pronunciation so harsh and guttural, that no white 

255 man, it is said, has ever been able to master it. Even 
Maxwell, the trader, who has been most among 
them, is compelled to resort to the curious sign-language 
common to most of the prairie-tribes. With this Henry 
Chatillon was perfectly acquainted. 

260 Approaching the village, we found the ground all 
around it strewn with great piles of waste buffalo- 
meat in incredible ciuantitieso The lodges were 
pitched in a very wide circle. They resembled those 
of the Dahcotah in everything but cleanliness and 

265 neatness. Passing between two of them, we entered 
the great circular area of the camp, and instantly 
hundreds of Indians — men, women, and children — 
came flocking out of their habitations to look at us; 
at the same time the dogs all around the village set up 

270 a fearful baying. Our Indian guide walked toward 
the lodge of the chief. Here we dismounted; and 
loosening the trail-ropes from our horses' necks, held 
them securely, and sat down before the entrance, with 
our rifles laid across our laps. The chief came out and 

275 shook us by the hand. He was a mean-looking fellow, 
very tall, thin-visaged, and sinewy, like the rest of the 
nation, and with scarcely a vestige of clothing. We had 
not been seated half a minute before a multitude of 



THE OREGON TRAIL 355 

Indians came crowding around us from every part 

2 80 of the village, and we were shut in by a dense wall of 
savage faces. Some of the Indians crouched around 
us on the ground ; others again sat behind them ; others, 
stooping, looked over their heads; w^hile many more 
stood crowded behind, stretching themselves upward, 

285 and peering over each other's shoulders, to get a view 
of us. I looked in vain among this multitude of faces 
to discover one manly or generous expression ; all were 
wolfish, sinister, and malignant, and their complexions, 
as well as their features, unlike those of the Dahcotah, 

290 were exceedingly bad. The chief, who sat close to the 
entrance, called to a squaw w^ithin the lodge, who 
soon came out and placed a wooden bowl of meat 
before us. To our surprise, however, no pipe was 
offered. Having tasted of the meat as a matter of 

295 form, I began to open a bundle of presents — tobacco, 
knives, vermilion, and other articles which I had 
brought with me. At this there was a grin on every 
countenance in the rapacious crowd; their eyes 
began to glitter, and long, thin arms were eagerly 

300 stretched toward us on all sides to receive the gifts. 

The Arapahoes set great value upon their shields, 

which they transmit carefully from father to son. I 

wished to get one of them; and displaying a large 

piece of scarlet cloth, together with some tobacco 

305 and a knife, I offered them to anyone who would 
bring me what I wanted. After some delay a toler- 
able shield was produced. They were very anxious 
to know what we meant to do with it, and Henry 
told them that we were going to fight their enemies, 

3iothe Pawnees. This instantly produced a visible 
impression in our favor, which was increased by the 
distribution of the presents. Among these was a 
large paper of awls, a gift appropriate to the women; 
and as we were anxious to see the beauties of the 



3s6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

31 5 Arapahoe village, Henry requested that they might 
be called to receive them. A warrior gave a shout, 
as if he were calling a pack of dogs together. The 
squaws, .young and old, hags of eighty and girls of 
sixteen, came running with screams and laughter 

320 out of the lodges; and as the men gave way for 
them, they gathered around us and stretched out 
their arms, grinning with delight, their native ugli- 
ness considerably enhanced by the excitement of 
the moment. 

325 Mounting our horses, which during the whole inter- 
view we had held close to us, we prepared to leave 
the Arapahoes. The crowd fell back on each side, 
and stood looking on. When we were half- across the 
camp an idea occurred to us. The Pawnees were 

330 probably in the neighborhood of ''The Caches"; we 
might tell the Arapahoes of this, and instigate them to 
send down a war-party and cut them off, while we 
ourselves could remain behind for a while and hunt 
the buffalo. At first thought this plan of setting our 

335 enemies to destroy one another seemed to us a master- 
piece of policy; but we immediately recollected that, 
should we meet the Arapahoe warriors on the river 
below, they might prove quite as dangerous as the 
Pawnees themselves. So, rejecting our plan as soon 

340 as it presented itself, we passed out of the village on the 
farther side. We urged our horses rapidly through 
the tall grass, which rose to their necks. Several In- 
dians were walking through it at a distance, their heads 
just visible above its waving surface. It bore a kind 

3 4 5 of seed, as sweet and nutritious as oats ; and our hungry 
horses, in spite of whip and rein, could not resist the 
temptation of snatching at this unwonted luxury as we 
passed along. When about a mile from the village, 
I turned and looked back over the undulating ocean 

350 of grass. The sun was just set; the western sky 



THE OREGON TRAIL 



357 



was all in a glow, and sharply defined against it, on 
the extreme verge of the plain, stood the numerous 
lodges of the Arapahoe camp. 

Reaching the bank of the river, we followed it for 

35 5 some distance farther, until we discerned through 
the twilight the white covering of our little cart on 
the opposite bank. When we reached it we found 
a considerable number of Indians there before us. 
Four or five of them were seated in a row upon the 

360 ground, looking like so many half-starved vultures. 
Tete Rouge, in his uniform, was holding a close col- 
loquy with another by the side of the cart. His 
gesticulations, his attempts at sign-making and the 
contortions of his countenance were most ludicrous; 

365 and finding all these of no avail, he tried to make 
the Indian understand him by repeating English 
words very loudly and distinctly again and again. 
The Indian sat with his eye fixed steadily upon him, 
and in spite of the rigid immobility of his features, 

3 70 it was clear at a glance that he perfectly understood 
his military companion's character and thoroughly 
despised him. The exhibition was more amusing 
than politic, and Tete Rouge was directed to finish 
what he had to say as soon as possible. Thus re- 

375buked, he crept under the cart and sat down there; 
Henry Chatillon stooped to look at him in his retire- 
ment, and remarked in his quiet manner that an 
Indian would kill ten such men and laugh all the 
time. 

380 One by one our visitors arose and stalked away. 
As the darkness thickened we were saluted by dismal 
sounds. The wolves are incredibly numerous in this 
part of the country, and the offal around the Arapahoe 
camp had drawn such multitudes of them together that 

385 several hundreds were howling in concert in our imme- 
diate neighborhood. There was an island in the river. 



358 THE OREGON TRAIL 

or rather an oasis in the miclst of the sands, at about the 
distance of a gun-shot, and here they seemed gathered in 
the greatest numbers. A horrible discord of low, mourn- 

390 ful wailings, mingled with ferocious howls, arose from 
it incessantly for several hours after sunset. We could 
distinctly see the wolves running about the prairie 
within a few rods of our fire, or bounding over the 
sand-beds of the river and splashing through the 

395 water. There was not the slightest danger to be 
feared from them, for they are the greatest cowards 
on the prairie. 

In respect to the human wolves in our neighbor- 
hood we felt much less at our ease. We seldom 

400 erected our tent except in bad weather, and that 
night each man spread his buffalo- robe upon the 
ground, with his loaded rifle laid at his side or clasped 
in his arms. Our horses were picketed so close 
around us that one of them repeatedly stepped over 

405 me as I lay. We were not in the habit of placing a 
guard, but every man that night was anxious and watch- 
ful; there was little sound sleeping in camp, and some- 
one of the party was on his feet during the greater part 
of the time. For myself, I lay alternately waking and 

4 10 dozing until midnight. Tete Rouge was reposing 
close to the riverbank, and about this time when half- 
asleep and half-awake, I was conscious that he shifted 
his position and crept on all-fours under the cart. 
Soon after I fell into a sound sleep, from which I was 

4 1 5 aroused by a hand shaking me by the shoulder. Look- 
ing up, I saw Tete Rouge stooping over me with his 
face quite pale and his eyes dilated to their utmost ex- 
pansion. 

"What's the matter?" said I. 

420 ''Tete Rouge declared that as he lay on the river- 
bank something caught his eye which excited his 
suspicions. So, creeping under the cart for safety's 



THE OREGON TRAIL 3S9 

sake, he sat there and watched, when he saw two 
Indians, wrapped in white robes, creep up the bank, 

425 seize upon two horses, and lead them off. He looked 
so frightened and told his story in such a disconnected 
manner that I did not believe him, and was unwilling 
to alarm the party. Still it might be true, and in that 
case the matter required instant attention. There 

430 would be no time for examination, and so directing 
Tete Rouge to show me which way the Indians had 
gone, I took my rifle in obedience to a thoughtless 
impulse, and left the camp. I followed the river 
back for two or three hundred yards, listening and 

435 looking anxiously on every side. In the dark prairie 
on the right I could discern nothing to excite alarm; 
and in the dusky bed of the river a wolf was bounding 
along in a manner which no Indian could imitate. 
I returned to the camp, and when within sight of it 

440 saw that the whole party was aroused. Shaw called 
out to me that he had counted the horses, and that every 
one of them was in his place. Tete Rouge, being ex- 
amined as to what he had seen, only repeated his former 
story with many asseverations, and insisted that two 

445 horses were certainly carried oft'. At this Jim Gurney 
declared that he was crazy. Tete Rouge indignantly 
denied the charge, on which Jim appealed to us. As we 
decHned to give our judgment on so delicate a mat- 
ter, the dispute grew hot between Tete Rouge and 

4 50 his' accuser, until he was directed to go to bed and 
not alarm the camp again if he saw the whole Arapahoe 
village coming. 



CHAPTER XXIV 



THE CHASE 



"Mightiest of all the beasts of chase, 
That roam in woody Caledon, 
Crashing the forest in his race, 

The mountain Bull comes thundering on.'* 

— Cadyow Castle 

5 The country before us was now thronged with 
buffalo, and a sketch of the manner of hunting them 
will not be out of place. There are two methods 
commonly practised — "running" and "approach- 
ing." The chase on horseback, which goes by the 

I o name of "running," is the more violent and dashing 
mode of the two. Indeed, of all American wild sports 
this is the wildest. Once among the buffalo, the hunter, 
unless long use has made him familiar with the situa- 
tion, dashes forward in utter recklessness and self- 

1 5 abandonment . He thinks of nothing, cares for nothing, 
but the game; his mind is stimulated to the highest 
pitch, yet intensely concentrated on one object. In the 
midst of the flying herd, where the uproar and the 
dust are thickest, it never wavers for a moment; he 

20 drops the rein and abandons his horse to his furious 
career; he levels his gun, the report sounds faint 
amid the thunder of the buffalo ; and when his wounded 
enemy leaps in vain fury upon him, his heart thrills 
with a feeling like the fierce delight of the battlefield. 

25 A practised and skillful hunter, well mounted, will 
sometimes kill five or six cows in a single chase, loading 
360 



THE OREGON TRAIL 3^>i 

his gun again and again as his horse rushes through the 
tumuh. An exploit Hke this is quite beyond the 
capacities of a novice. In attacking a small band of 
30 buffalo, or in separating a single animal from the herd 
and assailing it apart from the rest, there is less excite- 
ment and less danger. With a bold and well-tramed 
horse the hunter may ride so close to the buffalo that, 
as they gallop side by side, he may reach over and touch 
3 5 him with his hand; nor is there much danger m this 
^ as long as the buffalo's strength and breath continue 
unabated; but when he becomes tired and can no 
longer run with ease, when his tongue lolls out and the 
foam flies from his jaws, then the hunter had better 
40 keep a more respectful distance. The distressed brute 
may turn upon him at any instant; and especially 
at the moment when he fires his gun. The wounded 
buffalo springs at his enemy ; the horse leaps violently 
aside; and then the hunter has need of a tenacious 
45 seat in the saddle, for if he is thrown to the ground there 
is no hope for him. When he sees his attack defeated 
the buffalo resumes his flight, but if the shot be well 
directed he soon stops; for a few moments he stands 
still, then totters and falls heavily upon the prairie. 
50 The chief difficulty in running buffalo, as it seems 
to me, is that of loading the gun or pistol at full 
gallop. Many hunters, for convenience' sake, carry 
three or four bullets in the mouth; the powder is 
poured down the muzzle of the piece, the bullet 
5 5 dropped in after it, the stock struck hard upon the 
pommel of the saddle, and the work is done. The 
danger of this method is obvious. Should the blow 
on the pommel fail to send the bullet home, or should 
the latter, in the act of aiming, start from its place 
60 and roll toward the muzzle, the gun would probably 
burst in discharging. Many a shattered hand and 
worse casualities besides have been the resuU of such 



362 THE OREGON TRAIL 

an accident. To obviate it, some hunters make use 
of a ramrod, usually hung by a string from the neck, 

65 but this materially increases the difficulty of loading. 

The bows and arrows which the Indians use in running 

buffalo have many advantages over fire-arms, and even 

white men occasionally employ them. 

The danger of the chase arises not so much from 

70 the onset of the wounded animal as from the nature 
of the ground over which the hunter must ride. The 
prairie does not always present a smooth, level, and 
uniform surface ; very often it is broken with hills and 
hollows, intersected by ravines, and in the remoter 

75 parts studded by the stiff wild-sage bushes. The most 
formidable obstructions, however, are the burrows of 
wild animals — wolves, badgers, and particularly 
prairie-dogs — with whose holes the ground for a very 
great extent is frequently honey- combed. In the blind - 

Soness of the chase the hunter rushes over it unconscious 
of danger; his horse, at full career, thrusts his leg deep 
into one of the burrows; the bone snaps, the rider 
is hurled forward to the ground and probably killed. 
Yet, accidents in buffalo running happen less fre- 

Ssquently than one would suppose; in the recklessness 
of the chase the hunter enjoys all the impunity of a 
drunken man, and may ride in safety over the gullies 
and declivities, where, should he attempt to pass in 
his sober senses, he would infallibly break his neck. 

90 The method of "approaching," being practised 
on foot, has many advantages over that of "run- 
ning"; in the former, one neither breaks down his 
horse nor endangers his own life; instead of yielding 
to excitement, he must be cool, collected, and watch- 

9 5ful; he must understand the buffalo, observe the 
features of the country and the course of the wind, and 
be well skilled, moreover, in using the rifle. The 
buffalo are strange animals; sometimes they are so 



THE OREGON TRAIL 3^3 

Stupid and infatuated that a man may walk up to them 

loo in full sight on the open prairie, and even shoot several 
of their number before the rest will think it necessary 
to retreat. Again, at another moment, they will be 
so shy and wary that in order to approach them the 
utmost skill, experience, and judgment are necessary. 

105 Kit Carson, I believe, stands pre-eminent in running 
buffalo; in approaching, no man living can bear 
away the palm from Henry Chatillon. 

To resume the story. After Tete Rouge had 
alarmed the camp, no further disturbance occurred 

iioduring the night. The Arapahoes did not attempt 
mischief, or if they did the wakefulness of the party 
deterred them from effecting their purpose. The 
next day was one of activity and excitement, for 
about ten o'clock the man in advance shouted the 

I IS gladdening cry of bufjalo! bufjalo! and in the hollow 
of the prairie just below us, a band of bulls were 
grazing. The temptation was irresistible, and Shaw 
and I rode down upon them. We were badly mounted 
on our travelling horses, but by hard lashing we over- 

120 took them, and Shaw, running alongside of a bull, 
shot into him both balls of his double-barrelled gun. 
Looking around as I galloped past I saw the bull in 
his mortal fury rushing again and again upon his 
antagonist, whose horse constantly leaped aside, and 

1 25 avoided the onset. My chase was more protracted, 
but at length I ran close to the bull and killed him 
with my pistols. Cutting off the tails of our victims 
by way of trophy, we rejoined the party in about a 
quarter of an hour after we left it. Again and again 

1 30 that morning rang out the same welcome cry of bufjalo! 
bufjalo! Every few moments, in- the broad meadows 
along the river, we would see bands of bulls, who, 
raising their shaggy heads, would gaze in stupid amaze- 
ment at the approaching horsemen, and then breaking 



364 THE OREGON TRAIL 

13s into a clumsy gallop, would file off in a long line 
across the trail in front toward the rising prairie on the 
left. At noon the whole plain before us was alive 
with thousands of buffalo — bulls, cows, and calves — 
all moving rapidly as we drew near; and far-off 

1 40 beyond the river the swelling prairie was darkened 
with them to the very horizon. The party was in 
gayer spirits than ever. We stopped for a "noon- 
ing" near a grove of trees by the river-side. 

"Tongues and hump-ribs to-morrow," said Shaw, 

145 looking with contempt at the venison steaks which 
Delorier placed before us. Our meal finished, we 
lay down under a temporary awning to sleep. A 
shout from Henry Chatillon aroused us, and we saw 
him standing on the cart-wheel, stretching his tall 

150 figure to its full height while he" looked toward the 
prairie beyond the river. Following the direction 
of his eyes, we would clearly distinguish a large 
dark object, like the black shadow of a cloud, passing 
rapidly over swell after swell of the distant plain; be- 

155 hind it followed another of similar appearance, though 
smaller. Its motion was more rapid, and it drew closer 
and closer to the first. It was the hunters of the 
Arapahoe camp pursuing a band of buffalo. Shaw 
and I hastily caught and saddled our best horses, and 

1 60 went plunging through sand and water to the farther 
bank. We were too late. The hunters had already 
mingled with the herd, and the work of slaughter was 
nearly over. When we reached the ground we found 
it strewn far and near with numberless black carcasses 

165 while the remnants of the herd, scattered in all direc- 
tions, were flying away in terror, and the Indians still 
rushing in pursuit. • Many of the hunters, however, 
remained upon the spot, and among the rest was our 
yesterday's acquaintance, the chief of the village. He 

i7ohLad alighted by the side of a cow, into which he 



THE OREGON TRAIL 365 

had shot five or six arrows, and his squaw, who had 
followed him on horseback to the hunt, was giving 
him a draught of water out of a canteen, purchased 
or plundered from some volunteer soldier. Re- 

175 crossing the river, we overtook the party, who were 
already on their way. 

We had scarcely gone a mile when an imposing 
spectacle presented itself. From the river-bank on 
the right, away over the swelling prairie on the left, 

1 80 and in front as far as we could see, extended one 
vast host of buffalo. The outskirts of the herd 
were within a quarter of a mile. In many parts 
they were crowded so densely together that in the 
distance their rounded backs presented a surface of 

185 uniform blackness; but elsewhere they were more 
scattered, and from amid the multitude rose little col- 
umns of dust w^here the buffalo were rolling on the 
ground. Here and there a great confusion was per- 
ceptible, where a battle was going forward among the 

190 bulls. We could distinctly see them rushing against 
each other, and hear the clattering of their horns and 
their hoarse bellowing. Shaw was riding at some 
distance in advance with Henry Chatillon. I saw 
him stop and draw the leather covering from his 

195 gun. Indeed, with such a sight before us, but one 
thing could be thought of. That morning I had 
used pistols in the chase. I had now a mind to try 
the virtue of a gun. Delorier had one, and I rode 
up to the side of the cart; there he sat under the 

200 white covering, biting his pipe between his teeth and 
grinning with excitement. 

''Lend me your gun, Delorier," said I. 
^'Oui, monsieur, oui,^^ said Delorier, tugging 
with might and main to stop the mule, which seemed 

205 obstinately bent on going forward. Then everything 
but his moccasins disappeared as he crawled into 
the cart and pulled at the gun to extricate it. 



366 THE OREGON TRAIL 

"Is it loaded?" I asked. 

''Oui, Hen charge, you'll kill, mon bourgeois; yes, 
2 lo you'll kill — c'est un bon jusil.^'' 

I handed him my rifle and rode forward to Shaw. 

"Are you ready?" he asked. 

"Come on," said I. 

"Keep down that hollow," said Henry, "and 
215 then they won't see you till you get close to them." 

The hollow was a kind of ravine, very wide and 
shallow; it ran obliquely toward the buffalo, and 
we rode at a canter along the bottom until it became 
too shallow; when we bent close to our horses' necks, 
220 and then finding that it could no longer conceal us, 
us, came out of it and rode directly toward the herd. 
It was within gunshot; before its outskirts numerous 
grizzly old bulls were scattered, holding guard over 
their females. They glared at us in anger and astonish- 
225 ment, walked toward us a few yards, and then turning 
slowly around retreated at a trot, which afterward 
broke into a clumsy gallop. In an instant the main 
body caught the alarm. The buffalo began to crowd 
away from the point toward which we were approach- 
230 ing, and a gap was opened in the side of the herd. We 
entered it, still restraining our excited horses. Every 
instant the tumult was thickening. The buft'alo, 
pressing together in large bodies, crowded away from 
us on every hand. In front and on either side we could 
235 see dark columns and masses, half -hidden by clouds 
of dust, rushing along in terror and confusion, and 
hear the tramp and clattering of ten thousand hoofs. 
That countless multitude of powerful brutes, igno- 
rant of their own strength, were flying in a panic 
2 40 from the approach of two feeble horsemen. To 
remain quiet longer was impossible. 

"Take that band on the left," said Shaw; "I'll 
take these in front." 



THE OREGON TRAIL 367 

He sprang off, and I saw no more of him. A 

245 heavy Indian whip was fastened by a band to my 
wrist; I swung it into the air and lashed my horse's 
flank with all the strength of my arm. Away she 
darted, stretching close to the ground. I could see 
nothing but a cloud of dust before me, but I knew 

250 that it concealed a band of many hundreds of buf- 
falo. In a moment I was in the midst of the cloud, 
half-suffocated by the dust and stunned by the tramp- 
ling of the flying herd; but I was drunk with the 
chase and cared for nothing but the buffalo. Very 

255 soon a long dark mass became visible, looming through 
the dust; then I could distinguish each bulky carcass, 
the hoofs flying out beneath, the short tails held rigidly 
erect. In a moment I was so close that I could have 
touched them with my gun. Suddenly, to my utter 

2 60 amazement, the hoofs were jerked upward, the tails 
flourished in the air, and amid a cloud of dust the 
buffalo seemed to sink into the earth before me. One 
vivid impression of that instant remains upon my mind. 
I remember looking down upon the backs of several 

2 65 buffalo dimly visible through the dust. We had run 
unawares upon a ravine. At that moment I was not 
the most accurate judge of depth and width, but 
when I passed it on my return, I found it about twelve 
feet deep and not quite twice as wide at the bottom. 

2 70 It was impossible to stop; I would have done so-gladly 
if I could; so, half-sliding, half-plunging, down went 
the little mare. I believe she came down on her 
knees in the loose sand at the bottom; I was pitched 
forward violently against her neck and nearly thrown 

2 75 over her head among the buffalo, who, amid dust and 
confusion, came tumbling in all around. The mare 
was on her feet in an instant, and scrambling like a cat 
up the opposite side. I thought for a moment that she 
would have fallen back and crushed me, but with a 



368 THE OREGON TRAIL 

280 violent effort she clambered out and gained the hard 
prairie above. Glancing back I saw the huge head of 
a bull clinging, as it were, by the forefeet at the edge 
of the dusty gulf. At length I was fairly among the 
buffalo. They were less densely crowded than be- 

285 fore, and I could see nothing but bulls, who always 
run at the rear of a herd. As I passed amid them 
they would lower their heads, and turning as they 
ran, attempt to gore my horse; but as they were 
already at full speed there was no force in their onset, 

290 and as Pauline ran faster than they, they were always 
thrown behind her in the effort. I soon began to dis- 
tinguish cows amid the throng. One just in front of 
me seemed to my liking, and I pushed close to her side. 
Dropping the reins, I fired, holding the muzzle of the 

295 gun within a foot of her shoulder. Quick as lightning 
she sprang at Pauline; the little mare dodged the at- 
tack and I lost sight of the wounded animal amid the 
tumultuous crowd. Immediately after I selected an- 
other, and urging forward Pauline, shot into her both 

300 pistols in succession. For a while I kept her in view, 
but in attempting to load my gun, lost sight of her 
also in the confusion. Believing her to be mortally 
wounded and unable to keep up with the herd, I 
checked my horse. The crowd rushed onward. 

305 The dust and tumult passed away, and on the prairie, 
far behind the rest, I saw a solitary buffalo galloping 
heavily. In a moment I and my victim were running 
side by side. My firearms were all empty, and I 
had in my pouch nothing but rifle- bullets too large 

3iofor the pistols and too small for the gun. I loaded 
the latter, however, but as often as I levelled it 
to fire, the little bullets would roll out of the muzzle 
and the gun returned only a faint report like a 
squib, as the powder harmlessly exploded. I galloped 

315111 front of the buffalo and attempted to turn her 



THE OREGON TRAIL 369 

back; but her eyes glared, her mane bristled, and 
lowering her head, she rushed at me with astonish- 
ing fierceness and activity. Again and again I rode 
before her, and again and again she repeated her furious 

320 charge. But little Pauline was in her element. She 

dodged her enemy at every rush, until at length the 

buffalo stood still, exhausted with her own efforts; 

she panted, and her tongue hung lolling from her jaws. 

Riding to a little distance, I alighted, thinking to 

325 gather a handful of dry grass to serve the purpose 
of wadding, and load the gun at my leisure. No 
sooner were my feet on the ground than the buffalo 
came bounding in such a rage toward me that I 
jumped back again into the saddle with all possible 

3 30 dispatch. After waiting a few minutes more, I 
made an attempt to ride up and stab her with my 
knife; but the experiment proved such as no wise 
man would repeat. At length, bethinking me of 
the fringes at the seams of my buckskin pantaloons, 

335 1 jerked off a few of them, and reloading the gun, 
forced them down the barrel to keep the bullet in 
its place; then approaching, I shot the wounded 
buffalo through the heart. Sinking to her knees, 
she rolled over lifeless on the prairie. To my aston- 

34oishment I found that instead of a fat cow I had been 
slaughtering a stout yearling bull. No longer wonder- 
ing at the fierceness he had shown, I opened his throat, 
and cutting out his tongue, tied it at the back of my 
saddle. My mistake was one which a more experi- 

345enced eye than mine might easily make in the dust 
and confusion of such a chase. 

Then for the first time I had leisure to look at the 
scene around me. The prairie in front was dark- 
ened with the retreating multitude and on the other 

350 hand the buffalo came filing up in endless unbroken 
columns from the low plains upon the river. The 



370 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Arkansas was three or four miles distant. I turned 
and moved slowly toward it. A long time passed 
before, far down in the distance, I distinguished the 

35 5 white covering of the cart and the little black specks 
of horsemen before and behind it. Drawing near, I 
recognized Shaw's elegant tunic, the red flannel 
shirt conspicuous far off. I overtook the party, and 
asked him what success he had met with. He had 

360 assailed a fat cow, shot her with two bullets, and 
mortally wounded her. But neither of us were pre- 
pared for the chase that afternoon, and Shaw, like 
myself, had no spare bullets in his pouch; so he aban- 
doned the disabled animal to Henry Chatillon, who 

365 followed, dispatched her with his rifle, and loaded his 
horse with her meat. 

We encamped close to the river. The night was 
dark, and as we lay down we could hear mingled 
with the bowlings of wolves the hoarse bellowing of 

3 70 the buffalo, like the ocean beating upon a distant 
coast. 



CHAPTER XXV 



THE BUFFALO-CAMP 



"In pastures measureless as air, 
The bison is my noble game." — Bryant 

No one in the camp was more active than Jim 
Gurney, and no one half so lazy as Ellis. Between 
5 these two there was a great antipathy. Ellis never 
stirred in the morning until he was compelled to, 
but Jim was always on his feet before daybreak; 
and this morning, as usual, the sound of his voice 
awakened the party. 

lo "Get up, you booby! up with you now, you're 
fit for nothing but eating and sleeping. Stop your 
grumbling and come out of that buffalo-robe or I'll 
pull it off for you." 

Jim's words were interspersed with numerous 

1 5 expletives, which gave them great additional effect. 
Ellis drawled out something in a nasal tone from 
among the folds of his bufTalo-robe; then slowly 
disengaged himself, rose into a sitting-posture, stretched 
his long arms, yawned hideously, and, finally raising 

20 his tall person erect, stood staring around him to all 
the four quarters of the horizon. Delorier's fire was 
soon blazing, and the horses and mules, loosened from 
their pickets, were feeding on the neighboring meadow. 
When we sat down to breakfast the prairie was still 

2 5 in the dusky light of morning ; and as the sun rose we 
were mounted and on our way again. 
"A white buffalo!" exclaimed Munroe. 

371 



372 THE OREGON TRAIL 

"I'll have that fellow," said Shaw, "if I run my 
horse to death after him." 

30 He threw the cover of his gun to Delorier and 
galloped out upon the prairie. 

"Stop, Mr. Shaw, stop!" called out Henry Cha- 
tillon, "you'll run down your horse for nothing; 
it's only a white ox." 

35 But Shaw was already out of hearing. The ox, 
who had no doubt strayed away from some of the 
government wagon-trains, was standing beneath some 
low hills which bounded the plain in the distance. 
Not far from him a band of veritable buffalo-bulls 

40 were grazing; and startled at Shaw's approach, they 
all broke into a run, and went scrambling up the hill- 
sides to gain the high prairie above. One of them in 
his haste and terror involved himself in a fatal catas- 
trophe. Along the foot of the hills was a narrow strip 

4 5 of deep marshy soil, into which the bull plunged and 

hopelessly entangled himself. We all rode up to the 
spot. The huge carcass was half -sunk in the mud 
which flowed to his very chin, and his shaggy mane was 
outspread upon the surface. As we came near the 
50 bull began to struggle with convulsive strength; he 
writhed to and fro, and in the energy of his fright and 
desperation would lift himself for a moment half out 
of the slough, while the reluctant mire returned a 
sucking sound as he strained to drag his limbs from its 

5 5 tenacious depths. We stimulated his exertions by 

getting behind him and twisting his tail; nothing 
would do. There was clearly no hope for him. After 
every effort his heaving sides were more deeply im- 
bedded and the mire almost overflowed his nostrils; 
60 he lay still, at length, and looking around at us with 
a furious eye, seemed to resign himself to his fate. 
Ellis slowly dismounted, and deliberately levelling his 
boasted yager, shot the old bull through the heart; 



THE OREGON TRAIL 373 

then he lazily climbed back again to his seat, pluming 

65 himself, no doubt, on having actually killed a buffalo. 
That day the invincible yager drew blood for the first 
and last time during the whole journey. 

The morning was a bright and gay one, and the 
air so clear that on the farthest horizon the outline 

70 of the pale-blue prairie was sharply drawn against 
the sky. Shaw felt in the mood for hunting; he 
rode in advance of the party, and before long we 
saw a file of bulls galloping at full speed upon a 
vast green swell of the prairie at some distance in 

75 front. Shaw came scouring along behind them, 
arrayed in his red shirt, which looked very well in 
the distance; he gained fast on the fugitives, and as 
the foremost bull w^as disappearing behind the sum- 
mit of the swell, we saw him in the act of assailing 

80 the hindmost; a smoke sprang from the muzzle of 
his gun, and floated away before the wind like a 
little white cloud; the bull turned upon him, and 
just then the rising ground concealed them both 
from view. 

85 We were moving forward until about noon, when 
we stopped by the side of the Arkansas. At that 
moment Shaw appeared riding slowly down the side 
of a distant hill; his horse was tired and jaded, 
and when he threw his saddle upon the ground, I 

90 observed that the tails of two bulls, were dangling 
behind it. No sooner were the horses turned loose 
to feed than Henry, asking Munroe to go with him, 
took his rifle and walked quietly away. Shaw, 
Tete Rouge, and I sat down by the side of the cart 

95 to discuss the dinner which Delorier placed before 
us; we had scarcely finished when we saw Munroe 
walking toward us along the river-bank. Henry, 
he said, had killed four fat cows, and had sent him 
back for horses to bring in the meat. Shaw took a 



374 THE OREGON TRAIL 

loo horse for himself and another for Henry, and he 
and Munroe left the camp together. After a short 
absence all three of them came back, their horses 
loaded with the choicest parts of the meat; we kept 
two of the cows for ourselves and gave the others to 

105 Munroe and his companions. Delorier seated him- 
self on the grass before the pile of meat, and w^orked 
industriously for some time to cut it into thin broad 
sheets for drying. This is no easy matter, but Delorier 
had all the skill of an Indian squaw. Long before 

1 10 night cords of raw-hide were stretched around the 
camp, and the meat was hung upon them to dry in the 
sunshine and pure air of the prairie. Our California 
companions were less successful at the work, but they 
accomplished it after their own fashion, and their 

1 15 side of the camp was soon garnished in the same man- 
ner as our own. 

We meant to remain at this place long enough to 
prepare provisions for our journey to the frontier, 
which, as we supposed, might occupy about a month. 

1 20 Had the distance been twice as great and the party 
ten times as large, the unerring rifle of Henry Cha- 
tillon would have supplied meat enough for the 
whole within two days; we were obliged to remain, 
however, until it should be dry enough for trans- 

i25portation; so we erected our tent and made the 
other arrangements for a permanent camp. The 
California men, who had no such shelter, contented 
themselves with arranging their packs on the grass 
around their fire. In the meantime we had nothing 

iS^to do but amuse ourselves. Our tent was within a 
rod of the river, if the broad sand-beds, with a scanty 
stream of water coursing here and there along their 
surface, deserve to be dignified with the name of river. 
The vast flat plains on either side were almost on a 

135 level with the sand-beds, and they were bounded in 



THE OREGON TRAIL 375 

the distance by low, monotonous hills, parallel to the 
course of the Arkansas. All was one expanse of grass; 
there was no wood in view except some trees and stunted 
bushes upon two islands which rose from amid the wet 
140 sands of the river. Yet far from being dull and tame, 
this boundless scene was often a wild and animated 
one; for twice a day, at sunrise and at noon, the 
buffalo came issuing from the hills, slowly advancing 
in their grave processions to drink at the river. All 

1 4 5 our amusements were to be at their expense. Except 

an elephant, I have seen no animal that can surpass 
a buffalo-bull in size and strength, and the world may 
be searched in vain to find anything of a more ugly 
and ferocious aspect. At first sight of him every feeling 

1 5 o of sympathy vanishes ; no man who has not experienced 

it can understand with what keen relish one inflicts 
his death wound, with what profound contentment 
of mind he beholds him fall. The cows are much 
smaller and of gentler appearance, as becomes their 

1 5 5 sex. While in this camp we forebore to attack them, 
leaving to Henry Chatillon, who could better judge 
their fatness and good quality, the task of killing such 
as we wanted for use; but against the bulls we waged 
an unrelenting war. Thousands of them might be 

1 60 slaughtered without causing any detriment to the 
species, for their numbers greatly exceed those of the 
cows; it is the hides of the latter alone which are used 
for the purpose of commerce and for making the lodges 
of the Indians; and the destruction among them is 

1 65 therefore altogether dispro portioned. 

Our horses were tired, and we now usually hunted 
on foot. The wide, flat sand-beds of the Arkansas, 
as the reader will remember, lay close by the side 
of our camp. While we were lying on the grass 

1 70 after dinner, smoking, conversing, or laughing at 
Tete Rouge, one of us would look up and observe, 



376 THE OREGON TRAIL 

far out on the plains beyond the river, certain black 
objects slowly approaching. He would inhale a 
parting whiff from the pipe, then rising lazily, take 

1 75 his rifle, which leaned against the cart, throw over 
his shoulder the strap of his pouch and powder- 
horn, and with his moccasins in his hand, walk quietly 
across the sand toward the opposite side of the river. 
This w^as very easy; for though the sands were about 

180 a quarter of a mile wide, the water was nowhere more 
than two feet deep. The farther bank was about four 
or five feet high, and quite perpendicular, being cut 
away by the water in spring. Tall grass grew along 
its edge. Putting it aside with his hand, and cautiously 

185 looking through it, the hunter can discern the huge 
shaggy back of the buffalo slowly swaying to and fro, 
as, with his clumsy, swinging gait, he advances toward 
the water. The buffalo have regular paths by which 
they come down to drink. Seeing at a glance along 

190 which of these his intended victim is moving, the 
hunter crouches under the bank within fifteen or 
twenty yards, it may be, of the point where the path 
enters the river. Here he sits down quietly on the 
sand. Listening intently, he hears the heavy monoto- 

195 ous tread of the approaching bull. The moment after, 
he sees a motion among the long weeds and grass just 
at the spot where the path is channelled through the 
bank. An enormous black head is thrust out, the 
horns just visible amid the mass of tangled mane. 

200 Half-sliding, half-plunging, down comes the buffalo 
upon the river-bed below. He steps out in full sight 
upon the sands. Just before him a runnel of water is 
gliding, and he bends his head to drink. You may 
hear the water as it gurgles down his capacious throat. 

205 He raises his head, and the drops trickle from his wet 
beard. He stands with an air of stupid abstraction, 
unconscious of the lurking danger. Noiselessly the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 377 

hunter cocks his rifle. As he sits upon the sand, his 
knee is raised, and his elbow rests upon it, that he may 
2iolevel his heavy weapon with a steadier aim. The 
stock is at his shoulder; his eye ranges along the 
barrel. Still he is in no haste to fire. The bull, 
with slow deliberation, begins his march over the 
sands to the other side. He advances his fore-leg, 
215 and exposes to view a small spot, denuded of hair, 
just behind the point of his shoulder; upon this the 
hunter brings the sight of his rifle to bear; lightly 
and delicately his finger presses upon the hair-trigger. 
Quick as thought the spiteful crack of the rifle responds 
2 20 to his slight touch, and instantly in the middle of the 
bare spot appears a small red dot. The buffalo 
shivers; death has overtaken him, he cannot tell from 
whence; still he does not fall, but walks heavily 
forward, as if nothing had happened. Yet before 
225 he has advanced far out upon the sand, you see him 
stop; he totters; his knees bend under him, and his 
head sinks forward to the ground. Then his whole 
vast bulk sways to one side; he rolls over on the sand, 
and dies with a scarcely perceptible struggle. 
230 Waylaying the buffalo in this manner, and shoot- 
ing them as they come to water, is the easiest and 
laziest method of hunting them. They may also 
be approached by crawling up ravines, or behind 
hills, or even over the open prairie. This is often 
235 surprisingly easy; but at other times it requires the 
utmost skill of the most experienced hunter. Henry 
Chatillon was a man of extraordinary strength and 
hardihood; but I have seen him return to camp 
quite exhausted with his efforts, his limbs scratched 
240 and wounded, and his buckskin dress stuck full of 
the thorns of the prickly-pear, among which he had 
been crawling. Sometimes he would lay flat upon 
his face, and drag himself along in this position for 
many rods together. 



37^ THE OREGON TRAIL 

245 On the second day of our stay at this place, Henry 
went out for an afternoon hunt. Shaw and I remained 
in camp, until, observing some bulls approaching the 
water upon the other side of the river, we crossed over 
to attack them. They were so near, however, that be- 

2 50 fore we could get under cover of the bank, our appear- 
ance as we walked over the sands alarmed them. 
Turning around before coming within gunshot, they 
began to move off to the right, in a direction parallel 
to the river. I climbed up the bank and ran after them. 

255 They were walking swiftly, and before I could come 
within gunshot distance, they slowly wheeled about 
and faced toward me. Before they had turned far 
enough to see me I had fallen flat on my face. For a 
moment they stood and stared at the strange object 

260 upon the grass; then turning away, again they walked 
on as before; and I, rising immediately, ran once more 
in pursuit. Again, they wheeled about, and again I 
fell prostrate. Repeating this three or four times, I 
came at length within a hundred yards of the fugi- 

2 65tives, and as I saw them turning again I sat down 
and levelled my rifle. The one in the centre was 
the largest I had ever seen. I shot him behind the 
shoulder. His two companions ran off. He at- 
tempted to follow, but soon came to a stand, and at 

2 70 length lay down as quietly as an ox chewing the 
cud. Cautiously approaching him, I saw by his 
dull and jelly-like eye that he was dead. 

When I began the chase the prairie was almost 
tenantless; but a great multitude of buffalo had 

2 75 suddenly thronged upon it, and looking up I saw 
within fifty rods a heavy, dark column stretching to 
the right and left as far as I could see. I walked 
toward them. My approach did not alarm them in 
the least. The column itself consisted almost entirely 

280 of cows and calves, but a great many old bulls were 



THE OREGON TRAIL 379 

ranging about the prairie on its flank, and as I drew 
near they faced toward me with such a shaggy and 
ferocious look that I thought it best to proceed no 
farther. Indeed, I was already within close rifle- 

285 shot of the column, and I sat down on the ground 
to watch their movements. Sometimes the whole 
would stand still, their heads all facing one way; 
then they would trot forward, as if by a common 
impulse, their hoofs and horns clattering together as 

290 they moved. I soon began to hear at a distance on 
the left the sharp reports of a rifle, again and again 
repeated; and not long after, dull and heavy sounds 
succeeded, which I recognized as the familiar voice 
of Shaw's double-barrelled gun. When Henry's 

295 rifle was at work there was always meat to be brought 
in. I went back across the river for a horse, and re- 
turning, reached the spot where the hunters were 
standing. The buffalo were visible on the distant 
prairie. The living had retreated from the ground, 

300 but ten or twelve carcasses were scattered in various 

directions. Henry, knife in hand, was stooping over 

a dead cow, cutting away the best and fattest of the 

meat. 

When Shaw left me he had walked down for some 

305 distance under the river-bank to find another bull. 
At length he saw the plains covered with the host 
of buffalo, and soon after heard the crack of Henry's 
rifle. Ascending the bank, he crawled through the 
grass, which for a rod or two from the river was 

310 very high and rank. He had not crawled far before, 
to his astonishment, he saw Henry standing erect 
upon the prairie, almost surrounded by the buffalo. 
Henry was in his appropriate element. Nelson, on 
the deck of the "Victory," hardly felt a prouder 

315 sense of mastery than he. Quite unconscious that 
any one was looking at him, he stood at the full height 



38o THE OREGON TRAIL 

of his tall, Strong figure, one hand resting upon his side> 
and the other arm leaning carelessly on the muzzle of 
his rifle. His eyes were ranging over the singular 

320 assemblage around him. Now and then he would se- 
lect such a cow as suited him, level his rifle, and shoot 
her dead; then, quietly reloading, he would resume 
his former position. The buffalo seemed no more 
to regard his presence than if he were one of them- 

325 selves; the bulls were bellowing and butting at each 
other, or else rolling about in the dust. A group of 
buffalo would gather about the carcass of a dead cow, 
snufling at her wounds; and sometimes they would 
come behind those that had not yet fallen and endeavor 

330 to push them from the spot. Now and then some old 
bull would face toward Henry with an air of stupid 
amazement, but none seemed inclined to attack or 
fly from him. For some time Shaw lay among the 
grass, looking in surprise at this extraordinary sight; 

335 at length he crawled cautiously forward, and spoke 
in a low voice to Henry, who told him to rise and 
come on. Still the buffalo showed no sign of fear; they 
remained gathered about their dead companions. 
Henry had already killed as many cows as we wanted 

340 for use, and Shaw, kneeling behind one of the car- 
casses, shot five bulls before the rest thought it neces- 
sary to disperse. 

The frequent stupidity and infatuation of the 
buffalo seems the more remarkable from the con- 

345trast it offers to their wildness and wariness at other 
times. Henry knew all their peculiarities; he had 
studied them as a scholar studies his books, and he 
derived quite as much pleasure from the occupation. 
The buffalo were a kind of companions to him, and, 

350 as he said, he never felt alone when they were about 
him. He took great pride in his skill in hunting. 
Henry was one of the most modest of men; yet, in 



THE OREGON TRAIL 3^i 

the simplicity and frankness of his character, it was 
quite clear that he looked upon his pre-eminence in 

255 this respect as a thing too palpable and well-estab- 
lished ever to be disputed. But whatever may have 
been his estimate of his own skill, it was rather below 
than above that which others placed upon it. The only 
time that I ever saw a shade of scorn darken his face 

360 was when two volunteer soldiers, who had just killed 
a buffalo for the first time, undertook to instruct him 
as to the best method of "approaching." ^ To borrow 
an illustration from an opposite side of life, an Eton 
boy might as well have sought to enlighten Porsons on 

365 the formation of a Greek verb, or a Fleet Street shop- 
keeper to instruct Chesterfield concerning a point of 
etiquette. Henry always seemed to think that he had 
a sort of prescriptive right to the buffalo, and to look 
upon them as something belonging peculiarly to himself. 

370 Nothing excited his indignation so much as any 
wanton destruction committed among the cows, and 
in his view shooting a calf was a cardinal sin. 

Henry Chatillon and Tete Rouge were of the 
same age; that is, about thirty. Henry was twice 

375 as large, and fully six times as strong as Tete Rouge. 
Henry's face was roughened by winds and storms; 
Tete Rouge's was bloated by sherry-cobblers and 
brandy-toddy. Henry talked of Indians and buffalo; 
Tete Rouge of theatres and oyster-cellars. Henry 

380 had led a life of hardships and privation; Tete Rouge 
never had a whim which he would not gratify at the 
first moment he was able. Henry, moreover, was 
the most disinterested man I ever saw; while Tete 
Rouge, though equally good-natured in his way, cared 
385 for nobody but himself. Yet we would not have lost 
him on any account; he admirably served the pur- 
pose of a jester in a feudal castle; our camp would 
have been lifeless without him. For the past week 



i,<^2 THE OREGON TRAIL 

he had fattened in a most amazing manner; and, in- 

390 deed, this was not at all surprising, since his appetite 
was most inordinate. He was eating from morning 
till night; half the time he would be at work cook- 
ing some private repast for himself, and he paid a 
visit to the coffee-pot eight or ten times a day. His 

39 5 rueful and disconsolate face became jovial and rubi- 
cund, his eyes stood out like a lobster's, and his 
spirits, which before were sunk to the depths of 
despondency, were now elated in proportion; all 
day he was singing, whistling, laughing, and telling 

400 stories. Being mortally afraid of Jim Gurney, he 
kept close in the neighborhood of our tent. As he 
had seen an abundance of low, dissipated life, and 
had a considerable fund of humor, his anecdotes 
were extremely amusing, especially since he never 

405 hesitated to place himself in a ludicrous point of 
view, provided he could raise a laugh by doing so. 
Tete Rouge, however, was sometimes rather trouble- 
some; he had an inveterate habit of pilfering pro- 
visions at all times of the day. He set ridicule at 

410 utter defiance; and being without a particle of self- 
respect, he would never have given over his tricks, 
even if they had drawn upon him the scorn of the 
whole party. Now and then, indeed, something 
worse than laughter fell to his share; on these occa- 

4issions he would exhibit much contrition, but half an 
hour after we would generally observe him stealing 
around to the box at the back of the cart, and slyly 
making off with the provisions which Delorier had 
laid by for supper. He was very fond of smoking, 

420 but having no tobacco of his own, we used to pro- 
vide him with as much as he wanted, a small piece 
at a time. At first we gave him half a pound together ; 
but this experiment proved an entire failure, for he 
invariablv lost not only the tobacco, but the knife in- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 3>^3 

425 trusted to him for cutting it, and a few minutes after 
he would come to us with many apologies and beg for 
more. 

We had been two days at this camp, and some 
of the meat was nearly fit for transportation, when 
430 a storm came suddenly upon us. About sunset the 
whole sky grew as black as ink, and the long grass 
at the river's edge bent and rose mournfully with 
the first gusts of the approaching hurricane._ Mun- 
roe and his two companions brought their guns 
435 and placed them under cover of our tent. Having 
no sheUer for themselves, they bulk a fire of drift- 
wood that might have defied a cataract, and wrapped 
in their buffalo-robes, sat on the ground around it to 
bide the fury of the storm. Delorier ensconced 
440 himself under the cover of the cart. Shaw and I, 
together with Henry and Tete Rouge, crowded into 
the little tent; but, first of all, the dried meat was 
piled together and well protected by buffalo robes 
pinned firmly to the ground. About nine o'clock 
445 the storm broke, amid absolute darkness; it blew a 
gale, and torrents of rain roared over the boundless 
expanse of open prairie. Our tent was filled with 
mist and spray beating through the canvas, and 
saturating everything within. We could only dis- 
45otinguish each other at short intervals by the dazzling 
flash of lightning, which displayed the whole waste 
around us with its momentary glare. We had our 
fears for the tent; but, for an hour or two it stood 
fast, until at length the cap gave way before a furi- 
455 ous blast; the pole tore through the top, and in an 
instant we were half-suffocated by the cold and 
dripping folds of the canvas, which fell down upon 
us. Seizing upon our guns, we placed them erect 
in order to lift the saturated cloth above our heads. 
460 In this agreeable situation, involved among wet blan- 



384 THE OREGON TRAIL 

kets and buffalo robes, we spent several hours of the 
night, during which the storm would not abate for a 
moment, but pelted down above our heads with merci- 
less fury. Before long the ground beneath us became 

465 soaked with moisture, and the water gathered there 
in a pool two or three inches deep; so that for a con- 
siderable part of the night we were partially immersed 
in a cold bath. In spite of all this, Tete Rouge's 
flow of spirits did not desert him for an instant; he 

4 70 laughed, whistled, and sung in defiance of the storm, 
and that night he paid off the long arrears of ridicule 
which he owed us. While we lay in silence, enduring 
the infliction with what philosophy we could muster, 
Tete Rouge, who was intoxicated with animal spirits, 

475 was cracking jokes at our expense by the hour to- 
gether. At about three o'clock in the morning, "pre- 
ferring the tyranny of the open night" to such a 
wretched shelter, we crawled out from beneath the 
fallen canvas. The wind had abated, but the rain 

4 80 fell steadily. The fire of the California men still 
blazed amid the darkness, and we joined them as 
they sat around it. We made eady some hot coffee 
by way of refreshment; but when some of the party 
sought to replenish their cups it was found that Tete 

485 Rouge, having disposed of his own share, had pri- 
vately abstracted the coffee-pot and drank up the rest 
of the contents out of the spout. 

In the morning, to our great joy, an unclouded 
sun rose upon the prairie. We presented rather a 

490 laughable appearance, for the cold and clammy 
buckskin, saturated with water, clung fast to our 
limbs; the light wind and warm sunshine soon 
dried them again, and then we were all incased in 
armor of intolerable rigidity. Roaming all day 

495 over the prairie and shooting two or three bulls was 
scarcely enough to restore the stiffened leather to its 
Visual pliancy. 



THE 6rEGON trail 385 

Besides Henry Chatillon, Shaw and I were the 
only hunters in the party. Munroe this morning 

500 made an attempt to run a buffalo, but his horse 
could not come up to the game. Shaw went out 
with him, and, being better mounted, soon found 
himself in the midst of the herd. Seeing nothing 
but cows and calves around him, he checked his 

505 horse. An old bull came galloping on the open 
prairie at some distance behind, and turning, Shaw 
rode across his path, levelling his gun as he passed, 
and shooting him through the shoulder into the 
heart. The hea\y bullets of Shaw's double-bar- 

5 10 relied gun made wild w^ork wherever they struck. 

A great flock of buzzards were usually soaring 

about a few trees that stood on the island just below 

our camp. Throughout the whole of yesterday we 

had noticed an eagle among them; to-day he was 

5 15 still there; and Tete Rouge, declaring that he would 
kill the bird of America, borrowed Delorier's gun 
and set out on his unpatriotic mission. As might 
have been expected, the eagle suffered no great harm 
at his hands. He soon returned, saying that he could 

5 20 not find him, but had shot a buzzard instead. Being 

required to produce the bird in proof of his assertion, 

he said he believed that he was not quite dead, but he 

must be hurt, from the swiftness with which he flew off. 

"If you want," said Tete Rouge, "I'll go and 

325 get one of his feathers; I knocked off plenty of them 
when I shot him." 

Just opposite our camp was another island covered 
with bushes, and behind it was a deep pool of water, 
while two or three considerable streams coursed over 

330 the sand not far off* I was bathing at this place in 
the afternoon, when a white wolf, larger than the 
largest Newfoundland dog, ran out from behind the 
point of the island, and galloped leisurely over the 



386 THE OREGON TRAIL 

sand not half a stone's throw distant. I could plainly 

535 see his red eyes, and the bristles about his snout; he 
was an ugly scoundrel with a bushy tail, large head, 
and a most repulsive countenance. Having neither 
rifle to shoot nor stone to pelt him with, I was looking 
eagerly after some missile for his benefit, when the re- 

540 port of a gun came from the camp, and the ball threw 
up the sand just beyond him; at this he gave a slight 
jump, and stretched away so swiftly that he soon 
dwindled into a mere speck on the distant sand-beds. 
The number of carcasses that by this time were lying 

545 about the prairie all around us summoned the wolves 
from every quarter; the spot where Shaw and Henry 
had hunted together soon became their favorite resort, 
for here about a dozen dead buffalo were fermenting 
under the hot sun. I often used to go over the river 

550 and watch them at their meal; by lying under the 
bank it was easy to get a full view of them. Three 
different kinds were present; there were the white 
wolves and the gray wolves, both extremely large, 
and besides these the small prairie-wolves, not much 

555 bigger than spaniels. They would howl and fight in a 
crowd around a single carcass, yet they were so watch- 
ful, and their senses so acute, that I never was able 
to crawl within a fair shooting-distance; whenever 
I attempted it, they would all scatter at once and 

5 60 glide silently away through the tall grass. The air 
above this spot was always full of buzzards or black 
vultures ; whenever the wolves left a carcass they would 
descend upon it, and cover it so densely that a rifle- 
bullet shot at random among the gormandizing crowd 

565 would generally strike down two or three of them. 
These birds would now be sailing by scores just above 
our camp, their broad black wings seeming half trans- 
parent as they expanded them against the bright sky. 
The wolves and the buzzards thickened about us with 



THE OREGON TRAIL 3S7 

^^70 every hour, and two or three eagles also came into the 
feast. I killed a bull within rifle-shot of the camp; 
that night the wolves made a fearful howling, close 
at hand, and in the morning the carcass was com- 
pletely hollowed out by these voracious feeders, 

575 After we had remained four days at this camp we 
prepared to leave it. We had for our own part 
about five hundred pounds of dried meat, and the 
California men had prepared some three hundred 
more; this consisted of the fattest and choicest 

580 parts cf eight or nine cows, a very small quantity 
only being taken from each, and the rest abandoned 
to the wolves. The pack-animals were laden, the 
horses were saddled, and the mules harnessed to 
the cart. Even Tete Rouge was ready at last, and 

5 85 slowly moving from the ground, we resumed our 
journey eastward. When we had advanced about a 
mile, Shaw missed a valuable hunting-knife and 
turned back in search of it, thinking that he had left 
it at the camp. He approached the place cautiously, 

5 90 fearful that Indians might be lurking about, for a 
deserted camp is dangerous to return to. He saw 
no enemy, but the scene was a wild and dreary one; 
the prairie was overshadowed by dull, leaden clouds, 
for the day was dark and gloomy. The ashes of 

595 the fires were still smoking by the river side; the 
grass around them was trampled down by men and 
horses, and strewn with all the litter of a camp. Our 
departure had been a gathering signal to the birds 
and beasts of prey. Shaw assured me that literally 

600 dozens of wolves were prowling about the smouldering 
fires, while multitudes were roaming over the prairie 
around; they all fled as he approached, some running 
over the sand-beds and some over the grassy plains. 
The vultures in great clouds, were soaring overhead, 

605 and the dead bull near the camp was completely 



3^8 THE OREGON TRAIL 

blackened by the flock that had alighted upon It; 
they flapped their broad wings, and stretched upward 
their crested heads and long, skinny necks, fearing to 
remain, yet reluctant to leave their disgusting feast. 
6 1 o As he searched about the fires he saw the wolves seated 
on the distant hills, waiting for his departure. Hav- 
ing looked in vain for his knife, he mounted again, 
and left the wolves and the vultures to banquet freely 
upon the carrion of the camp. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

DOWN THE ARKANSAS 

"They quitted not their harness bright; 
Neither by day nor yet by night; 
They lay down to rest 
With corselet laced, 
5 Pillowed on buckler cold and hard. 

They carved at the meal 
With gloves of steel, 
And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred. " 
— The Lay of the Last Minstrel 

In the summer of 1846 the wild and lonely banks 

1 oof the Upper Arkansas beheld, for the first time, 

the passage of an army. General Kearney, on his 
march to Santa Fe, adopted this route in preference 
to the old trail of the Cimarron. When we came 
down, the main body of the troops had already passed 

15 on; Price's Missouri regiment, however, was still 
on the way, having left the frontier much later than 
the rest; and about this time we began to meet them 
moving along the trail, one or two companies at a 
time. No men ever embarked upon a military 

20 expedition with a greater love for the work before 
them than the Missourians; but if discipline and 
subordination be the criterion of merit, these soldiers 
were worthless indeed. Yet, when their exploits 
have rung through all America, it would be absurd 

2 5 to deny that they were excellent irregular troops. 

Their victories were gained in the teeth of every 
established precedent of warfare; they were owing 

389 



390 THE OREGON TRAIL 

to a singular combination of military qualities in the 
men themselves. Without discipline or a spirit of 

30 subordination, they knew how to keep their ranks 
and act as one man. Doniphan's regiment marched 
through New Mexico more like a band of free com- 
panions than like the paid soldiers of a modern govern- 
ment. When General Taylor complimented Doni- 

35 phan on his success at Sacramento and elsewhere, the 
Colonel's reply very well illustrates the relations which 
subsisted between the ofhcers and men of his com- 
mand: 

"I don't know anything of the manoeuvres. The 

40 boys kept coming to me to let them charge; and, 
when I saw a good opportunity, I told them they 
might go. They were off like a shot, and that's all 

■ I know about it." 

The backWoods lawyer was better fitted to con- 

45 ciliate the good will than to command the obedience 
of his men. There were many serving under him 
who, both from character and education, could better 
have held command than he. 

At the battle of Sacramento his frontiersmen fought 

sounder every possible disadvantage. The Mexicans 
had chosen their own position; they were drawn 
up across the valley that led to their native city of 
Chihuahua; their whole front was covered by intrench- 
ments and defended by batteries of heavy cannon; 

55 they outnumbered the invaders five to one. An eagle 
flew over the Americans, and a deep murmur rose along 
their lines. The enemy's batteries opened; long they 
remained under fire, but when at length the word was 
given they shouted and ran forward. In one of the 

60 divisions, when midway to the enemy, a drunken 
officer ordered a halt; the exasperated men hesitated 
to obey. 

''Forward, boys!" cried a private from the ranks; 



iHE OREGON TRAIL 



391 



and the Americans, rushing like tigers upon the enemy, 
65 bounded over the breastwork. Four hundred Mexicans 
were slain upon the spot, and the rest fled, scattering 
over the plain like sheep. The standards, cannons, 
and baggage were taken, and among the rest a wagon 
laden with cords, which the Mexicans in the fulness 
70 of their confidence, had made ready for tying the Ameri- 
can prisoners. 

Doniphan's volunteers, who gained this victory, 
passed up with the main army; but Price's soldiers, 
whom we now met, were men from the same neigh- 
75borhood, precisely similar in character, manners, 
and appearance. One forenoon, as we were de- 
scending upon a very wide meadow, where we meant 
to rest for an hour or two, we saw a dark body of horse- 
men approaching at a distance. In order to find water 
80 we were obliged to turn aside to the river-bank, a full 
half-mile from the trail. Here we put up a kind of 
awning, and spreading buffalo-robes on the ground, 
Shaw and I sat down to smoke beneath it. 

"We are going to catch it now," said Shaw; "look 
85 at those fellows; there'll be no peace for us here." 
And in good truth about half the volunteers had 
straggled away from the line of march, and were 
riding over the meadow toward us. 

•'How are you?" said the first who came up, alight- 
going from his horse and throwing himself upon the 
ground. The rest followed close, and a score of them 
soon gathered about us, some lying at full length, and 
some sitting on horseback. They all belonged to a 
company raised in St. Louis. There were some ruffian 
95 faces among them, and some haggard with debauchery, 
but on the whole they were extremely good-looking 
men, superior beyond measure to the ordinary rank 
and file of an army. Except that they were booted 
to the knees, they wore their belts and military trap- 



392 'THE OREGON TRAIL 

I oo pings over the ordinary dress of citizens. Besides 
their swords and holster-pistols, they carried, slung from 
their saddles, the excellent Springfield carbines, loaded 
at the breech. They inquired the character of our 
party, and were anxious to know the prospect of 

105 killing buffalo, and the chance that their horses 
would stand the journey to Santa Fe. All this was 
well enough, but a moment after a worse visitation 
came upon us. 

"How are you, strangers? whar are you going 

1 10 and whar are you from?" said a fellow, who came 
trotting up with an old straw hat on his head. He 
was dressed in the coarsest brown homespun cloth. 
His face was rather sallow from fever and ague, and 
his tall figure, though strong and sinewy, was quite 

1 15 thin, and had besides an angular look, which, to- 
gether with his boorish seat on horseback gave him 
an appearance anything but graceful. Plenty more 
of the same stamp were close behind him. Their 
company was raised in one of the frontier counties, 

1 20 and we soon had abundant evidence of their rustic 
breeding; dozens of them came crowding around, 
pushing between our first visitors, and staring at us 
with unabashed faces. 

"Are you the captain?" asked one fellow. 

125 "What's your business out here?" asked an- 
other. 

"Whar do you live when you're at home?" said 
a third. 

"I reckon you're traders," surmised a fourth; 

130 and to crown the whole, one of them came confi- 
dently to my side and inquired in a low voice, "What's 
your partner's name?" 

As each new-comer repeated the same questions 
the nuisance became intolerable. Our military vis- 

issitors were soon disgusted at the concise nature of 



THE OREGON TRAIL 393 

our replies, and we could overhear them muttering 
curses against us. While we sat smoking, not m 
the best imaginable humor, Tete Rouge's tongue 
was never idle. He never forgot his military char- 

Moacter, and during the whole interview he was inces- 
santly busy among his fellow -soldiers. At length 
we placed him on the ground before us, and told 
him that he might play the part of spokesman for 
the whole. Tete Rouge was delighted, and we soon 

145 had the satisfaction of seeing him talk and gabble at 
such a rate that the torrent of questions was m a 
great measure diverted from us. A little while after, 
to our amazement, we saw a large cannon with four 
horses come lumbering up behind the crowd; and 

1 50 the driver, who was perched on one of the animals, 
stretching his neck so as to look over the rest of the 

men, called out: , • :)n 

"Whar are you from, and what's your business.'' 

The captain of one of the companies was among 

155 our visitors, drawn by the same curiosity that had 

attracted his men. Unless their faces belied them, 

not a few in the crowd might with great advantage 

have changed places with their commander. 

''Well, men," said he, lazily rising from the ground 
160 where he had been lounging, " it's getting late, I reckon 
we had better be moving." 

"I shan't start yet, anyhow," said one fellow, 
who was lying half-asleep, with his head resting on 

his arm. , , , 1 r 

165 "Don't be in a hurry, captain," added the lieu- 
tenant. , 

"Well, have it your own way; we'll wait awhile 
longer," replied the obsequious commander. 

At length, however, our visitors went straggling 
1 70 away as they had come, and we, to our great relief, 
were left alone again. 



394 THE OREGON TRAIL 

No one can deny the intrepid bravery of these 
men, their intelligence and the bold frankness of 
their character, free from all that is mean and sor- 

175 did. Yet, for the moment, the extreme roughness 
of their manners, half-inclines one to forget their 
heroic qualities. Most of them seem without the 
least perception of delicacy or propriety, though 
among them individuals may be found in v^^hose 

1 80 manners there is a plain courtesy, while their feat- 
ures bespeak a gallant spirit equal to any enterprise. 
No one was more relieved than Delorier by the 
departure of the volunteers; for dinner was getting 
colder every moment. He spread a well- whitened 

1 85 buffalo hide upon the grass, placed in the middle 
the juicy hump of a fat cow, ranged around it the tin 
plates and cups, and then acquainted us that all was 
ready. Tete Rouge, with his usual alacrity on such 
occasions, was the first to take his seat. In his 

190 former capacity of steamboat clerk he had learned 
to prefix the honorary Mister to everybody's name, 
whether of high or low degree; so Jim Gurney was 
Mr. Gurney, Henry was Mr. Henry, and even Delo- 
rier, for the first time in his life, heard himself ad- 

195 dressed as Mr. Delorier. This did not prevent his 
conceiving a violent enmity against Tete Rouge, who, 
in his futile, though praiseworthy, attempts to make 
himself useful, used always to intermeddle with cook- 
ing the dinners. Delorier's disposition knew no 

200 medium between smiles and sunshine and a downright 
tornado of wrath; he said nothing to Tete Rouge, 
but his wrongs wrankled in his breast. Tete Rouge 
had taken his place at dinner; it was his happiest 
moment; he sat enveloped in the old buffalo-coat, 

205 sleeves turned up in preparation for the work, and his 
short legs crossed on the grass before him; he had a 
cup of coffee by his side and his knife ready in his hand, 



THE OREGON TRAIL 395 

and while he looked upon the fat hump-ribs, his eyes 

dilated with anticipation. Delorier sat just opposite 

2ioto him, and the rest of us by this time had taken our 

-How is this, Delorier? You haven't given us 

bread enough." ^ . i • . 

At this Delorier's placid face flew mstantly mto a 

2 15 paroxysm of contortions. He grinned with wrath 
chattered, gesticulated, and hurled forth a volley of 
incoherent words in broken English at the astonished 
Tete Rouge. It was just possible to make out that 
he was accusing him of having stolen and eaten four 

23olarge cakes which had been laid by for dinner. Tete 
Rouge, utterly confounded at this sudden attack, 
stared at Delorier for a moment in dumb amaze- 
ment, with mouth and eyes wide open. At last he 
found speech, and protested that the accusation was 

225 false; and that he could not conceive how he had 
offended Mr. Delorier, or provoked him to use such 
ungentlemanly expressions. The tempest of words 
raged with such fury that nothing else could be heard. 
But Tete Rouge, from his greater command of bng- 

2 3olish, had a manifest advantage over Delorier, who, 
after sputtering and grimacing for awhile found his 
words quite inadequate to the expression of his wrath. 
He jumped up and vanished, jerking out between his 
teeth one furious sacr4 enfant de grace, a Canadian 

235 title of honor, made doubly emphatic by being usually 
applied together with a cut of the whip to refractory 
mules and horses. 

The next morning we saw an old butlalo-bull 
escorting his cow with two small calves over the 

2 40 prairie. Close behind came four or five large white 
wolves, sneaking stealthily through the long meadow- 
grass, and watching for the moment when one of the 
children should chance to lag behind his parents. 



396 THE OREGON TRAIL 

The old bull kept well on his guard, and faced about 

245 now and then to keep the prowling ruffians at a dis- 
tance. 

As we approached our nooning-place we saw five 
or six buffalo standing at the very summit of a tall 
bluff. Trotting forward to the spot where we meant 

2 50 to stop, I flung off my saddle and turned my horse 
loose. By making a circuit under cover of some 
rising ground, I reached the foot of the bluff unno- 
ticed, and climbed up its steep side. Lying under 
the brow of the declivity, I prepared to fire at the 

255 buffalo, who stood on the flat surface above, not 
five yards distant. Perhaps I was too hasty, for the 
gleaming rifle-barrel levelled over the edge caught 
their notice; they turned and ran. Close as they 
were, it was impossible to kill them when in that 

2 60 position, and, stepping upon the summit, I pursued 
them over the high arid table-land. It was ex- 
tremely rugged and broken; a great sandy ravine 
was channelled through it, with smaller ravines enter- 
ing on each side, like tributary streams. The buffalo 

265 scattered, and I soon lost sight of most of them as 
they scuttled away through the sandy chasms; a 
bull and a cow alone kept in view. For a while they 
ran along the edge of the great ravine, appearing 
and disappearing as they dived into some chasm 

2 70 and again emerged from it. At last they stretched 
out upon the broad prairie, a plain nearly flat and 
almost devoid of verdure, for every short grass-blade 
was dried and shrivelled by the glaring sun. Now 
and then the old bull would face toward me; when- 

275 ever he did so I fell to the ground and lay motion- 
less. In this manner I chased them for about two 
miles, until at length I heard in front a deep hoarse 
bellowing. A moment after, a band of about a hun- 
dred bulls, before hidden by a slight swell of the 



THE OREGON TRAIL 397 



2 80 plain, came at once into view. The fugitives ran 
toward them. Instead of mingling with the band, 
as I expected, they passed directly through, and 
continued their flight. At this I gave up the chase, 
and kneeling down, crawled to within gun-shot of 

2 85 the bulls, and with panting breath and trickling brow 
sat down on the ground to watch them; my presence 
did not disturb them in the least. They were not 
feeding, for, indeed, there was nothing to eat; but 
they seemed to have chosen the parched and scorch- 

290 ing desert as the scene of their amusements. Some 
were rolling on the ground amid a cloud of dust; 
others, with a hoarse, rumbling bellow, were butting 
their large heads together, while many stood motion- 
less; as if quite inanimate. Except. their monstrous 

295 growth of tangled, grizzly mane, they had no hair; 
for their old coat had fallen off in the spring, and 
their new one had not as yet appeared. Sometinies 
an old bull would step forward, and gaze at me with 
a grim and stupid countenance; then he would turn 

300 and butt his next neighbor; then he would lie down 
and roll over in the dirt, kicking his hoofs in the 
air. When satisfied with this amusement, he would 
jerk his head and shoulders upward, and resting on 
his forelegs, stare at me in this position, half-blinded 

30 5 by his mane, and his face covered with dirt; then 
up he would spring upon all-fours, and shake his 
dusty sides; turning half -around, he would stand with 
his beard touching the ground, in an attitude of pro- 
found abstraction, as if reflecting on his puerile con- 

3ioduct. "You are too ugly to live," thought I; and 
aiming at the ugliest, I shot three of them in succes- 
sion. The rest were not at all discomposed at this; 
they kept on bellowing and butting and rolling on 
the ground as before. Henry Chatillon always cau- 
3i5tioned us to keep quiet in the presence of a wounded 



398 THE OREGON TRAIL 

buffalo, for any movement is apt to excite him to make 
an attack; so I sat still upon the ground, loading and 
firing with as little motion as possible. While I was 
thus employed, a spectator made his appearance; a 

320 little antelope came running up with remarkable gentle- 
ness to within fifty yards ; and there it stood, its slender 
neck arched, its small horns thrown back, and its large 
dark eyes gazing on me with a look of eager curiosity. 
By the side of the shaggy and brutish monsters before 

325 me, it seemed like some lovely young girl wander- 
ing near a den of robbers or a nest of bearded pirates. 
The buffalo looked uglier than ever. "Here goes for 
another of you," thought I, feeling in my pouch for a 
percussion-cap. Not a percussion-cap was there. 

330 My good rifle was useless as an old iron bar. One of 
the wounded bulls had not yet fallen, and I waited for 
some time, hoping every moment that his strength 
would fail him. He still stood firm, looking grimly 
at me, and disregarding Henry's advice, I rose and 

335 walked away. Many of the bulls turned and looked 
at me, but the wounded brute made no attack. I soon 
came upon a deep ravine which would give me shelter 
in case of emergency; so I turned around and threw 
a stone at the bulls. They received it with the utmost 

340 indifference. Feehng myself insulted at their refusal 
to be frightened, I swung my hat, shouted, and made 
a show of running toward them; at this they crowded 
together and galloped off, leaving their dead and 
wounded upon the field. As I moved toward the 

345 camp I saw the last survivor totter and fall dead. 
My speed in returning was wonderfully quickened by 
the reflection that the Pawnees were abroad, and that 
I was defenceless in case of meeting with an enemy. 
I saw no living thing, however, except two or three 

350 squalid old bulls scrambling among the sand-hills 
that flanked the great ravine. When I reached 



THE OREGON TRAIL 399 

camp the party were nearly ready for the afternoon 
move. 
We encamped that evening at a short distance 

35 5 from the river-bank. About midnight, as we all lay 
asleep on the ground, the man nearest to me, gently 
reaching out his hand, touched my shoulder, and 
cautioned me at the same time not to move. It was 
bright starlight. Opening my eyes and slightly turn- 

360 ing, I saw a large white wolf moving stealthily around 
the embers of our fire, with his nose close to the ground. 
Disengaging my hand from the blanket, I drew the 
cover from my rifle, which lay close at my side; the 
motion alarmed the wolf, and with long leaps he 

365 bounded out of the camp. Jumping up, I fired 
after him, when he was about thirty yards distant; 
the melancholy hum of the bullet sounded far away 
through the night. At the sharp report, so suddenly 
breaking upon the stillness, all the men sprang up. 

370 "You've killed him," said one of them. 

"No, I haven't," said I, "there he goes, running 
along the river." 

"Then there's two of them. Don't you see that 
one lying out yonder?" 

375 We went out to it, and instead of a dead white 
wolf, found the bleached skull of a buffalo. I had 
missed my mark, and what was worse, had grossly 
violated a standing law of the prairie. When in a 
dangerous part of the country, it is considered highly 

380 imprudent to fire a gun after encamping, lest the 
report should reach the ears of the Indians. 

The horses were saddled in the morning, and the 
last man had lighted his pipe at the dying ashes of 
the fire. The beauty of the day enlivened us all. 

385 Even Ellis felt its influence, and occasionally made 
a remark as we rode along; and Jim Gumev told 
endless stories of his cruisings in the United States 



400 THE OREGON TRAIL 

service. The buffalo were abundant and at length 
a large band of them went running up the hills on 

390 the left. 

"Do you see them buffalo?" said Ellis, ^'now, 

I'll bet any man I'll go and kill one with my yager." 

And leaving his horse to follow on with the party, 

he strode up the hill after them. Henry looked at 

39 5 us with his peculiar humorous expression, and pro- 
posed that we should follow Ellis to see how he would 
kill a fat cow. As soon as he was out of sight we rode 
up the hill after him, and waited behind a little ridge 
till we heard the report of the unfailing yager. Mount- 

400 ing to the top, we saw Ellis clutching his favorite weapon 
with both hands, and staring after the buffalo, who, 
one and all, were galloping off at full speed. As we 
descended the hill we saw the party straggling along 
the trail below. When we joined them, another scene 

405 of amateur hunting awaited us. I forgot to say that 
when we met the volunteers Tete Rouge had ob- 
tained a horse from one of them, in exchange for his 
mule, whom he feared and detested. This horse he 
christened James. James, though not worth so much 

4 10 as the mule, was a large and strong animal. Tete 
Rouge was very proud of his new acquisition, and sud- 
denly became ambitious to run a buffalo with him. 
At his request I lent him my pistols, though not 
without great misgivings, since when Tete Rouge 

41 5 hunted buffalo the pursuer was in more danger than 
the pursued. He hung the hostlers at his saddle- 
bow; and now, as we passed along, a band of bulls 
left their grazing in the meadow and galloped in a 
long file across the trail in front. 

420 ''Now's your chance, Tete; come, let's see you 
kill a bull." 

Thus urged, the hunter cried, "get up!" and James, 
obedient to the signal, cantered deliberately forward 



THE OREGON TRAIL 401 

at an abominably uneasy gait. Tete Rouge, as we 

425 contemplated him from behind, made a most remark- 
able figure. He still wore the old buffalo-coat; his 
blanket, which was tied in a loose bundle behind his 
saddle, went jolting from one side to the other, and a 
large tin canteen, half-full of water, which hung from 

430 his pommel, was jerked about his leg in a manner which 
greatly embarrassed him. 

''Let out your horse, man; lay on your whipl" 
we called out to him. The buffalo were getting 
farther off at every instant. James, being ambitious 

435 to mend his pace, tugged hard at the rein, and one of 
his rider's boots escaped from the stirrup. 

"Whoa! I say, whoa!" cried Tete Rouge, in 
great perturbation, and after much effort James's 
progress was arrested. The hunter came trotting 

440 back to the party, di'sgusted with buffalo-running, and 
he was received with overwhelming congratulations. 
"Too good a chance to lose," said Shaw, point- 
ing to another band of bulls on the left. We lashed 
our horses and galloped upon them. Shaw killed 

445 one with each barrel of his gun. I separated an- 
other from the herd and shot him. The small bul- 
let of the rifle-pistol striking too far back, did not 
immediately take effect, and the bull ran on with 
unabated speed. Agaiil and again I snapped the 

450 remaining pistol at him. I primed it afresh three 
or four times, and each time it missed fire, for the 
touch-hole was clogged up. Returning it to the 
holster, I began to load the empty pistol, still gal- 
loping by the side of the bull. By this time he was 

45 5 grown desperate. The foam flew from his jaws and 
his tongue lolled out. Before the pistol was loaded 
he sprang upon me, and followed up his attack with 
a furious rush. The only alternative was to run 
away or be killed. I took to flight, and the bull, 



402 THE OREGON TRAIL 

460 bristling with fury, pursued me closely. The pistol 
was soon ready, and then looking back, I saw his 
head five or six yards behind my horse's tail. To 
fire at it would be useless, for a bullet flattens against 
the adamantine skull of a buffalo-bull. Inclining 

465 my body to the left, I turned my horse in that direc- 
tion as sharply as his speed would permit. The 
bull, rushing blindly on with great force and weight, 
did not turn so quickly. As I looked back, his neck 
and shoulder were exposed to view ; turning in the sad- 

4 70 die, I shot a bullet through them obliquely into his 
vitals. He gave over the chase and soon fell to the 
ground. An English tourist represents a situation 
like this as one of imminent danger ; this is a great 
mistake; the bull never pursues long, and the horse 

475 must be wretched, indeed, that cannot keep out of his 
way for two or three minutes. 

We were now come to a part of the country where 
we were bound in common prudence to use every 
possible precaution. We mounted guard at night, 

480 each man standing in his turn; and no one ever slept 
without drawing his rifle close to his side or folding it 
with him in his blanket. One morning our vigilance was 
stimulated by our finding traces of a large Comanche 
encampment. Fortunately for us, however, it had 

485 been abandoned nearly a week. On the next evening 
we found the ashes of a recent fire, which gave us at 
the time some uneasiness. At length we reached 
*'The Caches," a place of dangerous repute; and it 
had a most dangerous appearance, consisting of sand- 

490 hills everywhere broken by ravines and deep chasms. 
Here we found the grave of Swan, killed at this place, 
probably by the Pawnees, two or three weeks before. 
His remains, more than once violated by the Indians 
and the wolves, were suffered at length to remain 

49 5 undisturbed in their wild burial-place. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 403 

For several days we met detached companies of 
Price's regiment. Horses would often break loose 
at night from their camps. One afternoon we picked 
up three of these stragglers quietly grazing along 

soothe river. After we came to camp that evening, Jim 
Gurney brought news that more of them were in sight. 
It was nearly dark, and a cold, drizzling rain had set 
in; but we all turned out, and after an hour's chase 
nine horses were caught and brought in. One of them 

505 was equipped with saddle and bridle; pistols were 
hanging at the pommel of the saddle, a carbine was 
slung at its side, and a blanket rolled up behind it. In 
the morning, glorying in our valuable prize, we re- 
sumed our journey, and our cavalcade presented a 

5 10 much more imposing appearance than ever before. 
We kept on till the afternoon, when, far behind, three 
horsemen appeared on the horizon. Coming on at a 
hand -gallop, they soon overtook us, and claimed all the 
horses as belonging to themselves and others of 

515 their company. They were, of course, given up, very 
much to the mortification of Ellis and Jim Gurney. 

Our own horses now showed signs of fatigue, and 
we resolved to give them half a day's rest. We 
stopped at noon at a grassy spot by the river After 

5 20 dinner Shaw and Henry went out to hunt; and 
while the men lounged about the camp, I lay down 
to read in the shadow of the cart. Looking up, I 
saw a buH grazing alone on the prairie, more than a 
mile distant. I was tired of reading, and taking my 

525 rifle I walked toward him. As I came near, I crawled 
upon the ground until I approached to within a hun- 
dred yards ; here I sat down upon the grass and waited 
tin he should turn himself into a proper position to 
receive his death wound. He was a grim old veteran. 

530 His loves and his battles were over for that season, 
and now, gaunt and war-worn, he had withdrawn from 



404 THE OREGON TRAIL 

the herd to graze by himself and recruit his exhausted 
strength. He was miserably emaciated; his mane 
was all in tatters; his hide was bare and rough as an 

535 elephant's, and covered with dried patches of the mud 
in which he had been wallowing. He showed all his 
ribs whenever he moved. He looked like some grizzly 
old rufhan grown gray in blood and violence, and 
scowling on all the world from his misanthropic seclu- 

540 sion. The old savage looked up when I first approached, 
and gave me a fierce stare ; then he fell to grazing again 
with an air of contemptuous indifference. The mo- 
ment after, as if suddenly recollecting himself, he 
threw up his head, faced quickly about, and, to my 

545 amazement, came at a rapid trot directly toward me. 
I was strongly impelled to get up and run, but this 
would have been very dangerous. Sitting quite 
still, I aimed, as he came on, at the thin part of the 
skull above the nose. After he had passed over 

550 about three-quarters of the distance between us, I 
was on the point of firing, when, to my great satis- 
faction, he stopped short. I had full opportunity of 
studying his countenance; his whole front was cov- 
ered with a huge mass of coarse, matted hair, which 

555 hung so low that nothing but his two forefeet were 
visible beneath it; his short, thick horns were blunted 
and split to the very roots in his various battles, and 
across his nose and forehead were two or three large 
white scars, which gave him a grim, and, at the same 

5 60 time, a whimsical appearance. It seemed to me that 
he stood there motionless for a full quarter of an hour, 
looking at me through the tangled locks of his mane. 
For my part, I remained as quiet as he, and looked 
quite as hard ; I felt greatly inclined to come to terms 

565 with him. ''My friend," thought I, "if you'll let me 
off, I'll let you off." At length he seemed to have 
abandoned any hostile design. Very slowly and de- 



THE OREGON TRAIL 405 

liberately he began to turn about; little by little his 
side came into view, all beplastered with mud. It was 

570 a tempting sight. I forgot my prudent intentions, and 
fired my rifle, a pistol would have served at that dis- 
tance. Round spun old bull like a top, and away he 
galloped over the prairie. He ran some distance and 
even ascended a considerable hill, before he lay down 

5 75 and died. After shooting another bull among the 
hills, I went back to camp. 

At noon, on the fourteenth of September, a very 
large Santa Fe caravan came up. The plain w^as 
covered with the long files of their white-topped 

5 80 wagons, the close black carriages in which the traders 
travel and sleep, large droves of animals, and men 
on horseback and on foot. They all stopped on the 
meadow near us. Our diminutive cart and handful 
of men made but an insignificant figure by the side of 

585 their wide and bustling camp. Tete Rouge went over 
to visit them, and soon came back with half a dozen 
biscuits in one hand, and a bottle of brandy in the 
other. I inquired where he got them. "Oh," said 
Tete Rouge, '^ I know some of the traders. Dr. Dobbs 

590 is there besides." I asked who Dr. Dobbs might be. 
"One of our St. Louis doctors," replied Tete Rouge. 
For two days past I had been severely attacked by the 
same disorder which had so greatly reduced my strength 
when at the mountains; at this time I w^as suffering 

595 not a little from the sudden pain and weakness which it 
occasioned. Tete Rouge, in answer to my inquiries, 
declared that Dr. Dobbs was a physician of the 
first standing. Without at all believing him, I re- 
solved to consult this eminent practitioner. Walk- 

600 ing over to the camp, I found him lying sound asleep 
under one of the wagons. He offered in his own 
person but an indifferent specimen of his skill, for it 
was five months since I had seen so cadaverous a face. 



4o6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

His hat had fallen off, and his yellow hair was all in dis- 

60 5 order; one of his arms supplied the place of a pillow; 
his pantaloons were wrinkled half-way up to his knees,, 
and he was covered with little bits of grass and straw, 
upon which he had rolled in his uneasy slumber. A 
Mexican stood near, and I made him a sign that he 

6 10 should touch the doctor. Up sprang the learned 
Dobbs, and sitting upright, rubbed his eyes and looked 
about him in great bewilderment. I regretted the 
necessity of disturbing him, and said I had come to ask 
professional advice. 

615 ''Your system, sir, is in a disordered state," said 
he, solemnly, after a short examination. 

I inquired what might be the particular species of 
disorder. 

''Evidently a morbid action of the hver," replied 

620 the medical man; "I will give you a prescription." 

Repairing to the back of one of the covered wagons, 

he scrambled in; for a moment I could see nothing 

of him but his boots. At length he produced a box 

which he had extracted from some dark recess within, 

625 and opening it, he presented me with a folded paper 
of some size. "What is it ?" said I. " Calomel," said 
the doctor. 

Under the circumstances I would have taken 
almost anything. There was not enough to do me 

630 much harm, and it might possibly do good; so at 

camp that night I took the poison instead of supper. 

That camp is worthy of notice. The traders 

warned us not to follow the main trail along the 

river, "unless," as one of them observed, "you want 

635 to have your throats cut!" The river at this place 

makes a bend; and a smaller trail, known as "the 

Ridge-path," leads directly across the prairie from 

point to point, a distance of sixty or seventy miles. 

We followed this trail, and after travelling seven 



THE OREGON TRATE 407 

640 or eight miles, we came to a small stream, where 
we encamped. Our position was not chosen with 
much forethought or military skill. The water was 
in a deep hollow, with steep high banks; on the 
grassy bottom of this hollow we picketed our horses, 

645 while we ourselves encamped upon the barren prairie 
just above. The opportunity was admirable either 
for driving off our horses or attacking us. After 
dark, as Tete Rouge was sitting at supper, we observed 
him pointing, with a face of speechless horror, over the 

650 shoulder of Henry, who was opposite to him. Aloof 
amid the darkness appeared a gigantic black appari- 
tion, solemnly swaying to and fro as it advanced 
steadily upon us. Henry, half -vexed and half -amused, 
jumped up, spread out his arms, and shouted. The 

65 5 invader was an old buffalo-bull, who, with characteris- 
tic stupidity, was walking directly into camp. It cost 
some shouting and swinging of hats before we could 
bring him first to a halt and then to a rapid retreat. 
That night the moon was full and bright; but as 

660 the black clouds chased rapidly over it, we were at 
one moment in light and at the next in darkness. 
As the evening advanced, a thunder-storm came up; 
it struck us with such violence that the tent would 
have been blown over if we had not interposed the 

665 cart to break the force of the wind. At length it 
subsided to a steady rain. I lay awake through 
nearly the whole night, listening to its dull patter 
upon the canvas above. The moisture which filled 
the tent and trickled from everything in it, did not 

670 add to the comfort of the situation. About twelve 
o'clock Shaw went out to stand guard amid the rain 
and pitch darkness. Munroe, the most vigilant as 
well as one of the bravest among us, was also on 
the alert. When about two hours had passed, Shaw 

675 came silently in, and touching Henry, called him in 



4o8 THE OREGON TRAIL 

a low, quick voice to come out. ''What is it?" I 
asked. "Indians, I believe," whispered Shaw; "but 
lie still; I'll call you if there's a fight." 

He and Henry went out together. I took the 

680 cover from my rifle, put a fresh percussion-cap upon 
it, and then, being in much pain, lay down again. 
In about five minutes Shaw came in again. "All 
right," he said, as he lay down to sleep. Henry 
was now standing guard in his place. He told me 

685 in the morning the particulars of the alarm. Munroe's 
watchful eye discovered some dark objects down in the 
hollow, among the horses, like men creeping on all- 
fours. Lying flat on their faces, he and Shaw crawled 
to the edge of the bank, and were soon convinced that 

690 what they saw were Indians. Shaw silently withdrew 
to call Henry, and they all lay watching in the same 
position. Henry's eye is one of the best on the prairie. 
He detected after a while the true nature of the moving 
objects; they were nothing but wolves creeping 

695 among the horses. 

It is very singular that when picketed near a camp 
horses seldom show any fear of such an intrusion. 
The wolves appear to have no other object than 
that of gnawing the trail-ropes of raw-hide by which 

700 the animals are secured. Several times in the course 
of the journey my horse's trail-rope was bitten in two 
by these nocturnal visitors. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

THE SETTLEMENTS 

"And some are in a far countree, 
And some all restlessly at home; 
But never more, ah never, we ^^ 

Shall meet to revel and to roam." 

— Siege of Corinth 

5 The next dav was extremely hot, and we rode 
from morning till night without seeing a tree or a 
bush or a drop of water. Our horses and mules 
suffered much more than we, but as sunset approached, 
they pricked up their ears and mended their pace. 

I o Water was not far off. When we came to the descent 
of the broad, shallow valley where it lay, an unlooked- 
for sight awaited us. The stream glistened at the bot- 
tom, and along its banks were pitched a muUitude of 
tents, while hundreds of cattle were feeding over 

1 5 the meadows. Bodies of troops, both horse and foot, 
and long trains of wagons, with men, women, and chil- 
dren, were moving over the opposite ridge and descend- 
ing the broad dechvity in front. These were the Mor- 
mon battalion in the service of the government, to- 

2ogether with a considerable number of Missouri volun- 
teers. The Mormons were to be paid off in California 
and they were allowed to bring with them their families 
and property. There was something very striking 
in the half-military, half-patriarchal appearance of 

2 5 these armed fanatics, thus on their way, with their 
' wives and children, to found, it might be, a Mormon 

409 



410 THE ORKGON TRAIL 

empire in California. We were much more aston- 
ished than pleased at the sight before us. In order 
to find an unoccupied camping- ground we were 

30 obliged to pass a quarter of a mile up the stream, 
and here we were soon beset by a swarm of Mormons 
and Missourians. The United States officer in com- 
mand of the whole came also to visit us, and remained 
some time at our camp. 

35 In the morning the country was covered with 
mist. We were always early risers, but before we 
were ready the voices of men driving in the cattle 
sounded all around us. As we passed above their 
camp we saw, through the obscurity, that the tents 

40 were falling and the ranks rapidly forming; and 
mingled with the cries of w^omen and children, the 
rolling of the Mormon drums and the clear blast of 
their trumpets sounded through the mist. 

From that time to the journey's end we met almost 

45 every day long trains of government w^agons laden 
with stores for the troops, and crawling at a snail's 
pace toward Santa Fe. 

Tete Rouge had a mortal antipathy to danger, but 
on a foraging expedition one evening he achieved an 

50 adventure more perilous than had yet befallen any 
man in the party. The night after we left "the Ridge- 
path" w^e encamped close to the river. At sunset we 
saw a train of wagons encamping on the trail, about 
three miles off; and though we saw them distinctly, 

5 5 our little cart, as it afterward proved, entirely escaped 
their view\ For some days Tete Rouge had been 
longing eagerly after a dram of whiskey. So, re- 
solving to improve the present opportunity, he mounted 
his horse James, slung his canteen over his shoulder, 

60 and set forth in search of his favorite liquor. Some 
hours passed without his returning. We thought that 
he w^as lost, or perhaps that some stray Indians had 



THE OREGON TRAIL 411 

snapped him up. While the rest fell asleep I remained 
on guard. Late at night a tremulous voice saluted me 

65 from the darkness, and Tete Rouge and James soon be- 
came visible advancing toward the camp. Tete Rouge 
w^as in much agitation and big with some important 
tidings. Sitting down on the shaft of the cart, he told 
the following story: 

70 When he left the camp he had no idea, he said, 
how late it was. By the time he approached the 
wagoners it was perfectly dark; and as he saw them 
all sitting around their fires within the circle of wagons, 
their guns laid by their sides, he thought he might as 

75 well give warning of his approach, in order to prevent 
a disagreeable mistake. Raising his voice to the high- 
est pitch, he screamed out in prolonged accents," 
^^camp ahoy!'^ This eccentric salutation produced 
anything but the desired result. Hearing such hideous 

80 sounds proceeding from the outer darkness, the wagon- 
ers thought that the whole Pawnee nation were about 
to break in and take their scalps. Up they sprang, 
staring with terror. Each man snatched his gun; 
some stood behind the wagons ; some threw themselves 

85 flat on the ground, and in an instant twenty cocked 

muskets were levelled full at the horrified Tete Rouge, 

who just then began to be visible through the darkness. 

"Thar they come!" cried the master- wagoner ; 

"fire! fire! Shoot that feller." 

90 "No, no!" screamed Tete Rouge, in an ecstasy 
of fright; "don't fire, don't; I'm a friend, I'm an 
American citizen!" 

"You're a friend, be you?" cried a gruff voice 
from the wagons; "then what are you yelling out 

95thar for, like a wild Injun? Come along up here if 
you're a man." 

"Keep your guns p'inted at him," added the master- 
wagoner; "maybe he's a decoy, like." 



412 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Tete Rouge, in utter bewilderment, made his ap- 

looproach, with the gaping muzzles of the muskets 
still before his eyes. He succeeded at last in ex- 
plaining his character and situation, and the Missourians 
admitted him into camp. He got no whiskey; but 
as he represented himself as a great invalid, and 

1 05 suffering much from coarse fare, they made up a 
contribution for him of rice, biscuit, and sugar from 
their own rations. 

In the morning, at breakfast, Tete Rouge once 
more related this story. We hardly knew how much 

1 10 of it to believe, though, after some cross-questioning, 
we failed to discover any flaw in the narrative. Passing 
by the wagoner's camp, they confirmed Tete Rouge's 
account in every particular. 

''I wouldn't have been in that feller's place," 

1 15 said one of them, "for the biggest heap of money 
in Missouri." 

To Tete Rouge's great wrath they expressed a 
firm conviction that he was crazy. We left them 
after giving them the advice not to trouble them- 

120 selves about war-whoops in the future, since they 
would be apt to feel an Indian's arrow before they 
heard his voice. 

A day or two after we had an adventure of an- 
other sort with a party of wagoners. Henry and I 

125 rode forward to hunt. After that day there was no 
probability that we should meet with buffalo, and 
we were anxious to kill one, for the sake of fresh 
meat. They were so wild that we hunted all the 
morning in vain, but at noon, as we approached 

1 30 Cow Creek, we saw a large band feeding near its 
margin. Cow Creek is densely lined with trees 
which intercept the view beyond, and it runs, as we 
afterward found, at the bottom of a deep trench. 
We approached by riding along the bottom of a ravine. 



THE OREGON TRAIL 4I3 

135 When we were near enough, I held the horses while 
Henry crept toward the buffalo. I saw him take his 
seat within shooting distance, prepare his rifle, and 
look about to select his victim. The death of a tat 
cow was certain, when suddenly a great smoke arose 
1 40 from the bed of the creek, with a rattling vo ley of 
musketry. A score of long-legged Missourians leaped 
out from among the trees and ran after the buffalo, 
who one and all took to their heels and vanished. 
These fellows had crawled up the bed of the creek to 
i45within a hundred yards of the buffalo. Never was 
there a fairer chance for a shot. They were good 
marksmen; all cracked away at once, and yet not a 
buffalo fell. In fact, the animal is so tenacious ot lite 
that it requires no little knowledge of anatomy to kill 
1^0 it, and it is very seldom that a novice succeeds m his 
first attempt at "approaching." The balked Mis- 
sourians were excessively mortified, especially when 
Henry told them that if they had kept quiet he would 
have killed meat enough in ten minutes to feed their 
I S5 whole party. Our friends, who were at no great dis- 
tance, hearing such a formidable fusillade, thought the 
Indians had fired the voUey for our benefit. Shaw 
came galloping on to reconnoitre and learn if we 
were yet in the land of the hving. 
160 At Cow Creek we found the very welcome novelty 
of ripe grapes and plums, which grew there m abund- 
ance At the Little Arkansas, not much farther on, 
we saw the last buffalo, a miserable old bull, roaming 
over the prairie alone and melancholy. 
165 From this time forward the character of the coun- 
try was changing every day. We had left behind us 
the great arid deserts, meagerly covered by the tufted 
buffalo-grass, with its pale green hue and its short 
shrivelled blades. The plains before us were carpeted 
1 70 with rich and verdant herbage sprinkled with flowers. 



414 THE OREGON TRAIL 

In place of buffalo we found plenty of prairie-hens, 
and we bagged them by dozens without leaving the 
trail. In three or four days we saw before us the broad 
woods and the emerald meadows of Council Grove, 

175 a scene of striking luxuriance and beauty. It seemed 
like a new sensation as we rode beneath the resound- 
ing arches of these noble woods. The trees were ash, 
oak, elm, maple, and hickory, their mighty limbs 
deeply overshadowing the path, while enormous grape- 

180 vines were entwined among them, purple with fruit. 
The shouts of our scattered party, and now and then a 
report of a rifle rang amid the breathing stillness of the 
forest. We rode forth again with regret into the broad 
light of the open prairie. Little more than a hundred 

185 miles now separated us from the frontier settlements. 
The whole intervening country was a succession of ver- 
dant prairies, rising in broad swells and relieved by 
trees clustering like an oasis around some spring, or 
following the course of a stream along some fertile 

190 hollow. These are the prairies of the poet and the 
novelist. We had left danger behind us. Nothing 
was to be feared from the Indians of this region — the 
Sacs and Foxes, the Kansas, and the Osages. We 
had met with signal good fortune. Although for five 

1 9 5 months we had been travelling with an insufficient 
force through a country where we were at any mo- 
ment liable to depredation, not a single animal had 
been stolen from us. And our only loss had been 
one old mule bitten to death by a rattlesnake. Three 

200 weeks after we reached the frontier, the Pawnees 
and the Comanches began a regular series of hostili- 
ties on the Arkansas trail, killing men and driving 
off horses. They attacked, without exception, every 
party, large or small, that passed during the next 

205 six months. 

Diamond Spring, Rock Creek, Elder Grove, and 



THE OREGON TRAIL 415 



Other camping-places besides were passed, all m 
quick succession. At Rock Creek we found a tram 
of government provision wagons under the charge 

2 10 of an emaciated old man in his seventy-first year. 
Some restless American devil had driven him mto 
the wilderness at a time when he should have been 
seated at his fireside with his grandchildren on his 
knees. I am convinced that he never returned; he 

2 IS was complaining that night of a disease, the wasting 
effects of which upon a younger and stronger man, I 
myself had proved from severe experience. Long ere 
this, no doubt, the wolves have howled their moon- 
light carnival over the old man's attenuated remains. 

220 Not long after we came to a small trail leading to 
Fort Leavenworth, distant but one day's journey. 
Tete Rouge here took leave of us. He was anxious 
to go to the fort in order to receive payment for his 
valuable military services. So he and his horse 

225 James, after bidding an affectionate farewell, set 
out together, taking with them as much provision as 
they could conveniently carry, including a large 
quantity of brown sugar. On a cheerless, rainy 
evening, we came to our last encamping ground. 

2 30 Some pigs belonging to a Shawanoe farmer were 
grunting and rooting at the edge of the grove. 

"I wonder how fresh pork tastes," murmured 
one of the party, and more than one voice murmured 
in response. The fiat went forth: "That pig must 

2 35 die," and a rifle was levelled forthwith at the coun- 
tenance of the plumpest porker. Just then a wagon- 
train, with some twenty Missourians, came out from 
among the trees. The marksman suspended his 
aim, deeming it inexpedient under the circumstances 

2 40 to consummate the deed of blood. 

In the morning we made our toilet as well as cir- 
cumstances would permit, and that is saying but 



4i6 THE OREGON TRAIL 

very little. In spite of the dreary rain of yesterday, 
there never was a brighter and gayer autumnal morn- 

245 ing than that on which we returned to the settlements. 
Wewere passing through the country of the half -civilized 
Shawanoes. It was a beautiful alternation of fertile 
plains and groves, whose foliage was just tinged with 
the hues of autumn, while close beneath them rested 

2 50 the neat log-houses of the Indian farmers. Every field 
and meadow bespoke the exuberant fertility of the soil. 
The maize stood rustling in the wind, matured and dry, 
its shining yellow ears thrust out between the gaping 
husks. Squashes and enormous yellow pumpkins 

255 lay basking in the sun in the midst of their brown 
and shrivelled leaves. Robins and blackbirds flew 
about the fences; and everything, in short, be- 
tokened our near approach to home and civilization. 
The forests that border on the Missouri soon rose 

2 60 before us, and we entered the wide tract of shrub- 
bery which forms their outskirts. We had passed 
the same road on our outward journey in the spring, 
but its aspect was totally changed. The young wild 
apple trees, then flushed with their fragrant blos- 

265soms, were now hung thickly with ruddy fruit. Tall 
grass flourished by the roadside in place of the tender 
shoots just peeping from the warm and oozy soil. The 
vines were laden with dark purple grapes, and the 
slender twigs of the maple, then tasselled with their 

2 70 clusters of small red flowers, now hung out a gorgeous 
display of leaves stained by the frost with burning 
crimson. On every side we saw the tokens of maturity 
and decay, where all had before been fresh and beauti- 
ful. We entered the forest, and ourselves and our 

2 75 horses were checkered, as we passed along, by the 
bright spots of sunlight that fall between the opening 
boughs. On either side the dark, rich masses of 
foliage almost excluded the sun, though here and there 



THE OREGON TRAIL 417 

its rays could find their way down, striking through 

2 80 the broad leaves and lighting them with a pure trans- 
parent green. Squirrels barked at us from the trees; 
coveys of young partridges ran rustling over the 
leaves below, and the golden oriole, the blue-jay, and 
the flaming red -bird darted among the shadowy 

285 branches. We hailed these sights and sounds of beauty 
by no means with an unmingled pleasure. Many and 
powerful as were the attractions w^hich drew us toward 
the settlements, we looked back even at that moment 
with an eager longing toward the wilderness of prairies 

290 and mountains behind us. For myself, I had suffered 
more that summer from illness than ever before in my 
life, and yet to this hour I cannot recall those savage 
scenes and savage men without a strong desire again 
to visit them. 

295 At length, for the first time during about half a 
year, we saw the roof of a white man's dwelling 
between the opening trees. A few moments after 
we were riding over the miserable log-bridge that 
leads into the centre of Westport. Westport had 

300 beheld strange scenes, but a rougher looking troop 
than ours, with our worn equipments and broken- 
down horses, was never seen even there. We passed 
the well-remembered tavern, Boone's grocery, and old 
Vogel's dram-shop, and encamped on a meadow 

305 beyond. Here we were soon visited by a number 
of people, who came to purchase our horses and equi- 
page. This matter disposed of, we hired a wagon and 
drove on to Kansas Landing. Here we were again 
received under the hospitable roof of our old friend, 

310 Colonel Chick, and seated under his porch, we looked 
down once more on the eddies of the Missouri. 

Delorier made his appearance in the morning, 
strangely transformed by the assistance of a hat, a 
coat, and a razor. His little log-house was among 



4i8 THE OREGON TRAIL 

315 the woods not far off. It seemed he had meditated 
giving a ball on the occasion of his return, and had 
consulted Henry Chatillon as to whether it would 
do to invite his bourgeois. Henry expressed his 
entire conviction that we would not take it amiss, 

320 and the invitation was now proffered accordingly, 
Delorier adding as a special inducement that An- 
toine Lajeunesse was to play the fiddle. We told 
him we would certainly come, but before the even- 
ing arrived a steamboat, which came down from 

325 Fort Leavenworth, prevented our being present at the 
expected festivities. Delorier was on the rock at the 
landing-place, waiting to take leave of us. ^^ Adieu! 
mes bourgeois, adieu! adieu! " he cried out as the boat 
put off; "when you go another time to de Rocky 

33oMontagnes I will go with you; yes, I will gol" 

He accompanied this patronizing assurance by 
jumping about, swinging his hat, and grinning from 
ear to ear. As the boat rounded a distant point, the 
last object that met our eyes was Delorier still lifting 

335 his hat and skipping about the rock. We had taken 
leave of Munroe and Jim Gurney at Westport, and 
Henry Chatillon went down in the boat with us. 

The passage to St. Louis occupied eight days, 
during about a third of which time we were fast 

340 aground on sand-bars. We passed the steamer 
"Amelia," crowded with a roaring crew of disbanded 
volunteers, swearing, drinking, gambling, and fight- 
ing. At length one evening we reached the crowded 
levee of St. Louis. Repairing to the Planters' House 

345 we caused diligent search to be made for our trunks, 
which, after some time, were discovered stowed 
away in the farthest corner of the store-room. In 
the morning we hardly recognized each other; a 
frotk of broadcloth had supplanted the frock of 

350 buckskin; well-fitted pantaloons took the place of 



THE OREGON TRAIL 419 

the Indian leggings, and polished boots were substi- 
tuted for the gaudy moccasins. 

After we had been several days at St. Louis we 
heard news of Tete Rouge. He had contrived to 

355 reach Fort Leavenworth, where he had found the 
paymaster and received his money. As a boat was 
just ready to start for St. Louis he went on board 
and engaged his passage. This done, he immediately 
got drunk on shore, and the boat went off without 

360 him. It was some days before another opportunity 
occurred, and meanwhile the sutler's stores furnished 
him with abundant means of keeping up his spirits. 
Another steamboat came at last, the clerk of which 
happened to be a friend of his, and by the advice of 

365 some charitable person on shore, he persuaded Tete 
Rouge to remain on board, intending to detain him 
there until the boat should leave the fort. At first 
Tete Rouge was well contented with this arrangement, 
but on applying for a dram, the bar-keeper, at the 

3 70 clerk's instigation, refused to let him have it. Finding 
them both inflexible in spite of his entreaties, he be- 
came desperate and made his escape from the boat. 
The clerk found him, after a long search, in one of the 
barracks; a circle of dragoons stood contemplating 

375 him as he lay on the floor, maudlin drunk and crying 
dismally. With the help of one of them the clerk 
pushed him on board, and our informant, who came 
down in the same boat, declares that he remained 
in great despondency during the whole passage. As 

380 we left St. Louis soon after his arrival, we did not see 
the worthless, good-natured little vagabond again. 

On the evening before our departure, Henry Chatil- 
lon came to our rooms at the Planters' House to take 
leave of us. No one who met him in the streets 

385 of St. Louis would have taken him for a hunter fresh 
from the Rocky Mountains. He was very neatly 



420 THE ORECxON TRAIL 

and simply dressed in a suit of dark cloth; for al- 
though since his sixteenth year he had scarcely been 
for a month together among the abodes of men, he had 

390 a native good taste and a sense of propriety which al- 
ways led him to pay great attention to his personal 
appearance. His tall athletic figure, with its easy 
flexible motions, appeared to advantage in his present 
dress; and his fine face, though roughened by a 

39 5 thousand storms, was not at all out of keeping with it. 
We took leave of him with much regret; and unless 
his changing features, as he shook us by the hand, 
belied him, the feeling on his part was no less than on 
ours.* Shaw had given him a horse at Westport. 

400 My rifle, which he had always been fond of using, as 
it was an excellent piece, much better than his own, 
is now in his hands, and perhaps at this moment its 
sharp voice is startling the echoes of the Rocky Moun- 
tains. On the next morning we left town, and after 

405 a fortnight of railroads and steamboats we saw once 
more the familiar features of home. 

* I cannot take leave of the reader without adding a word of the 
guide who had served us throughout with such zeal and fidelity. 
Indeed, his services had far surpassed the terms of his engagement. 
Yet, whoever had been his employers, or to whatever closeness of 
intercourse they might have thought fit to admit him, he would 
never have changed the bearing of quiet respect which he con- 
sidered due to his bourgeois. If sincerity and honor, a boundless 
generosity of spirit, a delicate regard to the feelings of others, and a 
nice perception of what was due to them, are the essential character- 
istics of a gentleman, then Henry Chatillon deserves the title. He 
could not write his own name, and he had spent his life among 
savages. In him sprang up spontaneously those qualities which all the 
the refinements of life and intercourse with the highest and best 
of the better part of mankind fail to awaken in the brutish nature of 
some men. In spite of his bloody calling, Henry was always humane 
and merciful; he was gentle as a woman, though braver than a lion. 
He acted aright from the free impulses of his large and generous 
nature. A certain species of selfishness is essential to the sternness of 
spirit which bears down opposition and subjects the will of others 
to its own. Henry's character was of an opposite starnp. His easy 
good -nature almost amounted to weakness; yet, while it unfitted 
him for any position of command, it secured the esteem and good- 
will of all those who were not jealous of his skill and reputation. 



NOTES 

Chapter I — The Frontier 

2 Shelley Percy Bvsshe Shelley (i 792-1822). An English poet. 

I Santa Fe St'. Louis was the center of travel along the Mississippi 
and Souri Rives. Emigrants had been settling in Oregon since 
iS^. when the United States had promised protection, though Great 
Sin stm disputed the ownership of the tract SeU^ were hkewise 
bound for CaUfornia, though no gold had been found there as >et. 
San'a F^was the center of a flourishing fur trade that m 1844 reached a 
value of $750,000, the " commerce of the prairies. The west^T. travel 
of 1846 was further increased by the war that was soon to be declared 
with Mexico over the northwest corner of the country. 

Z Equipments. Outfits necessary for a voyage or undertakmg of 

^"l^'^'Lee. Steep river banks, usually artificial, used along the 
MississiDoi in the sense of a wharf. ... 1 „„^i 

iT Snazzed Damaged by some sunken tree in the river channel. 

t GuaZ Framework over the paddles in a side-wheel steamer. 

22 Wagons. Black-topped, in which the traders could travel and sleep 

11 Emigrants. In this work "emigrants" means simply people who 
are moving from one part to another of the courltr>^ 

27 Nondescript. Not to be described and classified. 

l\ ^if;Z„.''Trbitl:s of a country. Here the boundaries 
of the settled part of the country. 

% ST- Thrpa'rt Trh^%";sel set apart for tf>ose paying the 

"''T'" Mountain ,nen." Men of the West, who lived by their skill 
with the rifle and were used to Indian warfare. r .u t-, 1 

Zk^L^ Indians. A wandering tribe of the family of the Dah- 
rotahs (Dakotas), for which the State of Kansas is named. 

46 5!za\r Trees sunken out of sight on the river bottom, brought 
down in the spring freshets. 

CO Turbid. Muddy and dark. 

CO OtJaque. Not to be seen through. _ 

60 SedLnt. Fine particles of sand or other matter in water which 

nf !r.:!;L'T^w S\h:S:n:d^branches in front of a fortification 



422 THE OREGON TRAIL 

73 Independence. Nine miles east of Kansas City. 

8 1 Slavish-looking Spaniards. Mean, stupid-looking, servile Span- 
lards, descendants of the first explorers of the Southwest, with whom the 
people of the United States were just now on bad terms, on the eve of the 
Mexican War. 

87 Buckskin dresses. Long coats made of deerskin, belted at the 
waist. 

103 Westport. Where both the Oregon and Santa Fe trails left the 
river. 

117 Sacs and Foxes. Indian tribes belonging to the Algonquin 
family. 

118 Shawanoes and Delawares. Also belonging to the Algonquin 
family. 

119 Wyandots. This tribe belonged to the Iroquois. 
125 Garnished. Trimmed. 

127 Round cap. A Tam o'-Shanter. 

130 Plaid. A rectangular piece of woolen cloth worn for an outer 
wrap by both men and women in Scotland. Usually it is of the colors 
or "plaid" cf their clan. 

140 Reinforcement. The roving bands of Indians made it unsafe 
for less than a dozen or so of men to travel across the prairies. 

145 ^'Kentucky fellows." A nickname used of all emigrants. 

158 Splicing. Joining ropes by interweaving the loose strands. 

158 Trail-rope. A rope fastened to a horse's bridle by which he can 
be tied. 

159 Amateur. One who is skilled in an art or study without being a 
professional in it, making a living by it. 

165 Muleteer. Their mule-driver. 

199 Doctrine of regeneration. The belief that a person who truly re- 
pent his sins and acknowledges the power of God is "reborn" in spirit. 

208 Land of promise. A reference to the Land of Canaan, promised 
to the Children of Israel. 

220 Ominous. Promising evil. 

222 Buffalo horse. One trained to hunt buffalo. 

252 Camp-meetings. Religious meetings, held usually by Methodists 
for several days at a time, in a settlement of tents or temporary cottages. 

271 Knavish-looking. Evil looking. 

273 Dram. As much liquor as can be drunk at one time. 

278 Traders. The original Oregon trail northwest from Westport 
to the South Fork of the Platte. 

279 Fort Leavenworth. A village and military post in Leavenworth 
County, Kansas. 

280 Dragoons. The summer before this General Kearney had 
marched his dragoons west to New Mexico and met the Oregon trail at the 
Big Blue River. A dragoon is a soldier trained to serve on horseback 
or on foot. 

294 Daniel Boone, (i 735-1820.) The American pioneer who first 
explored, in 1769, a large part of what is now Kentucky. When Ken- 
tucky became a State, in 1792, he went on west to Missouri, in 1795. 



NOTES 423 



Chapter II — Breaking the Ice 

I Though, etc. From "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage," a poem by 
George Noel Gordon, Lord Byron (i 788-1824). 

6 Inured. Hardened by experience. 

7 Vicissitudes. Happenings, changes. 

II Unperverted son of Adam. Any man whose natural likmgs are 
still unchanged by the circumstances of his Hfe. 

18 Border tribes. Those Indians living near to civilization and 

influenced by it. . , , , ,1 

37 Indian apple. The wild apple, whose blossoms are very lovely 

and sweet. 1 t j- 

4c Wyandot pony. A shaggy little breed used by the Indians. 
c;o Pommel. The knob at the front of the saddle. The so-called 

"Spanish saddles" used in Mexico and Texas are big, with clumsy 

stirrups that cover the feet. 

57 Holsters. Pistol cases of leather carried on the front of the 

saddle. . . , . ,. 

60 Smooth-bore. The band smooth, not grooved, to give a whirling 

movement to the bullet. . 

73 Patois. The French word for dialect, usually referring, however, 
to the speech of the lower classes. 

73 "L>e garce." A French Canadian oath. 

74 Abyss. Any deep space; literally without bottom. 

89 Jean Baptiste. A common nickname for a French Canadian. 

01 Obsequious. Showing a feeling of inferiority. 

91 Bourgeois. (Boor-zhwa'.) A French word, used by the French 
Canadians in the same sense as "boss." 

97 Fur Company. The Rocky Mountain Fur Company, organ- 
ized in 1826, which carried on its trade in the country around the Colorado 
and Columbia Rivers. 

125 Anglo-American. An American born of Enghsh ancestors. 

134 Arbiter. One who settles a quarrel or dispute. 

149 ''Lope." A gait made up of long leaps. The Indians trained 
their horses to lope because so much more ground could be gotten over 
without tiring horse or rider. 

177 Wampum. Beads made of shells. 

184 Pawnees. A cruel and treacherous tribe of the Dahcotahs. 

185 Motley concourse. A mixed crowd. 
190 Meagre. Thin and weak-looking. 

200 Village. Parkman uses village for a whole group of Indians, 
whether thev are travelling or stationary. 

209 Shdwanoe Mission. The group of buildings where the Metho- 
dist missionaries to the Indians lived. 

246 Epicurean. Appealing to a particular taste, usually apphed to 

food. 

262 Hobbled. Their legs tied together by short ropes in such a way 
as to allow some movement. 

270 Cogent. Not to be resisted. 

272 Pontiac. Named for the famous Ottawa chief, who led a con- 



424 THE OREGON TRAIL 

spiracy to drive out the English from the country in 1763. Parkmah*S 
first book was a hisory of Pontiac's conspiracy. 
273 Plebeian lineage. Low-born ancestors. 

278 Ogallallah brave. A brave is an Indian warrior; the Ogallallah 
were the people of the Red Cloud. 

279 Crows. A tribe of the Dahcotahs. 

283 Bivouac. Usually to camp without tents. Here used for pitch- 
ing a temporary tent. 

299 Myriads. A myriad is really ten thousand, used to denote 
indefinite numbers. 

350 Rawhide. A strip of twisted untanned skin. 

352 Tree. The frame of a saddle. 

356 Unequivocally. Without doubt. 

357 Frock. A long coat which slips on over the head, and may be 
belted at the waist. 

367 Sententiously . With fe\v words, but wisely. 

370 Delawares. The Dela wares went from New England into 
northern New York and Pennsylvania, where William Penn the Quaker 
made a treaty of peace with them that lasted sixty years. Later they 
moved farther and farther west. 

371 Tributaries. Those who pay tribute to a conqueror. The Iro- 
quois formerly lived in central and western New York and were a notably 
brave and cruel family. 

377 Rancor. Hatred joined to malicious spite. 

395 Tongue. The pole of the wagon. 

403 Garrison. The troops of the United States stationed there. 

407 Adieu. The French word for good-bye. 

Chapter III — Fort Leavenworth 

I Bryant. William Cullen Bryant, an American poet (1794-1878). 

6 General Kearney. A famous leader in the Mexican War: the com- 
mander of the expedition which took possession of New Mexico and 
Arizona. 

II Block-houses. Tower-like buildings of heavy timber or logs, 
with loop-holes for muskets which might be pointed in any direction 
sometimes even directly downward if the upper story had projecting 
corners. 

II Rumors of war. By this time the Mexican war had begun, and the 
Americans had won the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma. 

17 Offscourings. Refuse — the lowest kind of men. 

18 Expedition against Santa Fe. This was led by Kearney in 1846, 
who occupied the town without resistance. Santa Fe is the capital of 
New Mexico. 

21 Kickapoo. An Indian tribe who lived along the Mississippi, 
whose name is known through a once famous patent medicine called after 
them. 

27 Undulations. The ground rising and falling in wave-like curves 
60 Lynx. The lynx is an animal who hunts by night, and is sup- 
posed to have remarkably keen sight. 



NOTES 45§ 

72 Labyrinth. JPaths that twist and turn on each other in a puzzling 
fashion. 

80 Pottawattamies, A tribe who came originally from around the 
Great Lakes, and who had degenerated greatly since being driven west 

97 Capped. Ready to be fired, with the percussion cap in place. 

99 John Milton. (1608-1674.) The author of "Paradise Lost," 
and one of the three most famous of English poets. 

106 Creole. A person of French or Spanish descent, living in the 
Gulf States of the United States or in the French or Spanish Colonies of 
Central and South America. 

121 Steeple-chases. Horse races over a course in a straight line re- 
gardless of obstacles. 

122 Exploits. Heroic acts, usually in a sHghtly sarcastic sense. 

Chapter IV — "Jumping Off" 

I ''We forded,'' etc. From "The Siege of Corinth," a narrative poem 
by Lord Byron. 

5 Capote. A soldier's hooded cloak. 

13 John Bull. The common nickname for F2nglishmen. 

19 Fowling-pieces. A fowling-piece is a light gun for killing birds 
or small animals. 

25 Calibre. The diameter of the bore or tube of the gun and hence 
of the bullet it carries. In this case sixteen of the rifle bullets would 
weigh one pound. 

29 Avance done. French Canadian for "go on." 

35 Blackstone's Commentaries. The famous text-books on laws. 

56 "Bee-line." A bee always follows a perfectly straight line when 
he is returning to the hive. 

57 Copses. A copse is a thicket of small trees. 

61 Mazeppa. A cossack chief, bom in Poland in 1644. He made 
an enemy of a Polish nobleman, who bound him to the back of a wild horse 
and turned it loose. The horse returned to the land of the Cossacks 
with its helpless rider. 

62 ''Man nor" etc. The lines quoted here are from Byron's 
"Mazeppa." 

99 Demonstration. Advance, in this sense. 

108 Sacres. Oaths. 

no Slough. A deep place full of mud. 

136 Chinese crackers. Firecrackers. 

144 Perverse. Contrary-minded and obstinate. 

159 Charger. Horse; originally meaning a var-horse; hence a 
spirited horse. 

224 Protracted. Long drawn-out. 

257 Prairie-hen. A kind of grouse which inhabits the prairies in 
large numbers. 

261 " Varmints." A form of vermin, used of all obnoxious animals. 

262 Concerto. (Pronounced concherto.) Concert. 
269 Pertinacious. Persisting, unceasing. 

304 Contumacious, Obstinate. 



426 THE OREGON TRAIL 

379 VideUes. Mounted advance guard. 

406 Innovation. Something new and different. 

423 Iowa Indians. These Indians lived toward the northwest. 

Chapter V — The "Big Blue" 

I "A man so various,'" etc. From a poem by John Dryden, an Eng- 
glish poet ( 1 631-1700). 

6 Buffoon. A clown or jester. 

12 Mormons. The "Latter Day Saints," a sect founded by Joseph 
Smith in 1830. They first settled in Ohio, from which they were driven 
in a body in 1847. 

21 Fanatics. People who are so filled with religious enthusiasm as 
to be almost insane. 

35 ''Gentiles." The Mormon's name for all not of their faith. 

91 Fathomless. This is a sea term, used commonly in a figurative 
sense, implying something to which no bottom can be found by "sound- 
ing" or measuring with a line. 

Ill Ensconcing. Settling. 

114 Patriar h's. A patriarch was a father and ruler of a family. 

158 Ablutions. Washing. 

176 Execrations. Curses. 

187 Dor-bug. The black beetle. 

216 Apostrophizing. Talking to something as if it were alive. 

225 Classic mode. The Greeks and Romans ate stretched on couches 
resting on one elbow. 

242 Galled. The shin hurt by the rubbing of the chains or rope. 

251 Cataracts. Torrents, swift streams. 

263 Fetlock. The part of the horse's ankle just above the hoof. 

298 "Voulez vous du souper, tout de suite?" Do you want your 
supper right away? 

299 ''Sous la charette." Under the cart. 
323 Prismatic. Colors of the rainbow. 
332 Reverberation. Rolling echo. 

336 Palpable. Can be touched and felt. 

366 Antiquarian. Of old historic interest. 

371 Hibernian. Irish. 

435 Period. A stop. 

439 Repugnant. Utterly distasteful. 

444 Transatlantic. From across the Atlantic Ocean. 

489 Oakum. Old rope untwisted and picked into loose fibers is 
called oakum, and is usually of a reddish-brown color. When made 
from untarred rope it is called white oakum. 

495 Bond Street. The street of fashionable tailors in London. 

519 Macaulay's Lays. "Lays of Ancient Rome," by Lord Mac- 
aulay, the English historian. 

527 Eothen. A book on the manners of the East, written by A. W. 
Kinglake, but published without his name. 

530 Milnes. Richard Monckton Milnes, Lord Houghton, an English 
statesman and literary man. 



NOTES 427 

542 Borrow. George Borrow, an English writer and traveller. 

546 Judge Story. Joseph Story (i 779-1845). An associate judge 
of the United States Supreme Court, and head of the Harvard University 
Law School at one time. He was the author of many books. 

548 Erudite. Learned. 

549 Commentary. Explanation. 

578 Hoe-cake. Indian meal cake baked before a fire, sometimes on 
a hoe. 

601 Lariettes. Lassos, long ropes or leather thongs with a noose on 
the end. 

611 Pent-house. A shed sloping away from the main wall of a build- 
ing. 

623 Cavalier. A military horseman. 

632 Askance. Sidewise, cautiously. 

662 Principles of -woodcraft. According to the rules for cutting game 
to get the best eating. 

685 Brattling. Noisy and eager. 

696 Refractory mountain. The prophet Mahomet bade a mountain 
come to him and when it did not obey, he said, "If the mountain will not 
come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain." 

699 Vapor. Bluster. 

Chapter VI — The Platte axd the Desert 

3 ''Here have we," etc. From "King John," a sixteenth century 
historical play once supposed to have been written in part, at least, by 
Shakespeare. 

7 Old legitimate trail. Most of the emigrants to Oregon followed the 
trail which led from the crossing of the Kansas, northwest over the 
prairie, and then across the "Big Blue." 

64 Caravan. A company of travellers. 

69 Proportions. Parkman uses this word here in the sense of limbs, 
parts of the body. 

73 Oregon or California. At the time of which Parkman writes the 
number of emigrants from the East to California was comparatively 
smaller than to Oregon. 

92 Fomented. (Fermented.) Exalted, stirred up and increased. 

100 Extricated. Freed from difficulty. 

Ill Downcast. A name used in New England for the State of 
Maine, particularly the coast. Like all rural New Englanders, the people 
of these parts are apt to "talk through the nose." 

165 Allowed. "I allow"; a New England phrase which means 
practically "I will." 

193 Antelope. American antelope. 

211 Skirts of the Blackfoot country. The edge or frontier of the 
country inhabited by the Blackfoot tribe. This tribe of Indians be- 
longed to the Algonkin family, and had moved from the Great Lakes 
country west. 

230 Oui, Monsieur. Yes, sir. 

263 Dank. Unhealthy, damp. 



42S THE OREGON TRAIL 

'^? ^T^lTfr'^'^^'^^^ repeatedly before swallowing, as a horse eats. 
323 Bandtth. The Italian word for bands of robbers 

lini^?i3 ""■ ^^°°"^ ^^^ '^""^ ^' *^^ Dahcotahs. See page 159, 
374 Consecutive. All at one time without pause 
442 Cincture. Belt. 
456 Furlong. Forty rods. 

Chapter VII — The Buffalo 

8 Boisde vache. French for wood of the cow; dried buffalo manure. 
caM m^untains"^^^ P^^'^' ^°° '^^^ ^^^ ^^"^ ^^ -^ ^^^^ --^^ - be 

25 Ta// m^^-fe wagons. These wagons were often called "prairie 
schooners." The canvas tops were stretched on big half-hoops^ with 
round openmgs at either end of the wagon ^ 

long^h^rnf ^'^'^'* ^ ^"""^ ""^ '^''"' ^^'^°^' ^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^e^ed with 
no Connoisseur. One who knows; an expert 
127 Suasion. Persuasion. 
162 Precipitous. Steep. 

182 Austere. Severe and dignified. 

183 Led horse. A spare horse that is led along 

of h'4.i„frutfo." i::'sr,T,^ii:^z'' «'-^ *^ -° ™«hods 

204 InextrtcaUe Not to be separated and sorted out. 

234 Ignoble. Base, degraded. 

239 Raw-honed. Gaunt, with little flesh on the bones 

and^^ndkn!^ ''"''' ^ "^"'"'''"^ °^ '"^"^' ^" ^^^^ ^^^^ «f the French 
247 Predominate. Be most in evidence. 
250 Assimilating. Becoming part of. 

ll\ l7%T^~''^'^- u^" intermittent fever, alternated with chills. 
283 Ebullition. Outburst; literally a boiling ud 
312 Scot-free. Unhurt. ^' 

fellow-b^^r^^'''''^'^' ^^""^^ting. Used of one who shuns his 

341 Apprehension. Fear. 

403 Snaffle. An ordinary bridle hit. A curb bit has side pieces 
extending downwards and when the reins are fastened in these they act 
as levers so that the pull on the horse's jaw is much greater 

410 Intricacies. Complexities, windings. 

417 Scouring. Running swiftly. 

419 Impetuosity. Violent speed. 

492 Supplicating. Begging. 

493 Vehemently. Forcibly, eagerly. 

snrh^..^^^''''^- J^^^^^t ^}'' ^""^ ^"'^ty of an especiallv wicked crime 
such as is punishable by death or imprisonment. 

556 Palpable. Evident. 

573 Coincidence. Here used to mean agreement. 



NOTES 4^0 

604 Propensity. Liking. 

620 Pioneers. Daniel Boone and his five companions, who went 
over the mountains into Kentucky in 1769. 

Chapter VIII — Taking French Leave 

83 Scope. Room to expand and grow. 

87 From the German forests. The tribes beyond the Rhine from 
the beginning of the fifth century conquered and settled throughout 
Europe, from the British Isles south through Italy, and even into Africa, 
breaking up the kingdom of the Romans, which had included all Europe, 
a large part of Asia and the north of Africa. 

88 Inundate. Overflow, flood, 
no Interminable. Endless. 

120 Vouchsafed. Conceded, given in a condescending manner. 

161 Enormity. Outrageousness, wickedness. 

165 Palliate. Reduce. 

190 Alien. Foreign, strange. 

216 Incarnation. Living representation. 

229 Demolition. Destruction. 

245 Intercepted. Opposed. 

287 Cognizance. Notice; here it means not to recognize or consider 
the existence of such an idea. 

298 Scott's Bluff. See Washington Irving's "Astoria," for the 

origin of this name. 

335 Lithely. Lithe means pliant, moving easily and gracefully. 

339 Transversely. Across. 

340 Talisman. Magic charm. 

344 Doubloon. A Spanish gold piece worth about $15.60. 

344 Half dime. An old piece of silver money worth five cents. It 
was replaced in 1866 by the nickel. 

345 Vogue. Fashion, favor. 

351 Quiver. A case for holding arrows. 

356 Cantle. The ridge at the rear end of a saddle. 

375 Caparisons. Ornamented draperies hanging from a horse's 
saddle or harness. 

379 Vermilion. A bright red paint. 

382 Unchivalrous. Not courteous to women because he let his wife 
carry so much. 

416 Insignia. Tokens by which one's rank is shown. 

417 Medicine-bag. A bag made of the skin of the warrior's guardian 
animal, containing charms to protect him in the fight. 

421 Macbeth' s witches. The three witches in Shakespeare's tragedy 
of "Macbeth," who first persuaded Macbeth to murder the king. 

442 Le Cochon. French for "The hog." 

488 Black Hills. The range of mountains in southwest Dakota and 
northeast Wyoming. 

533 Tone. Healthy physical state. 

536 Navaho. The chief Indian tribe of the Southwest, living mostly 
in New Mexico and Arizona. 



430 THE OREGON TRAIL 

565 Shongsasha. Red willow bark. 

587 Radiant. Probably gaily embroidered with colored beads 
and dyed porcupine quills. 

607 Bastions. The wings or towers projecting out from the main 
enclosure of a fortified place. 

610 Arid. Dry. 

Chapter IX — Scenes at Fort Laramie 

4 Expiration. Passing by. 

12 Bedizened. Decorated with poor taste, gaudily. 

14 Vociferous. Clamoring. 

16 Engages. French for employers. 

21 Traders. The rivalry between the fur traders was very bitter. 

46 Trophy. Memorial or souvenir of a victory. 

75 Imperturbable. Undisturbed. 

87 Palisade. A fence of heavy, pointed sticks set close together as 
a defence. 

89 Banquette. A raised path behind the walls of a fort on which 
the defenders can stand to fire out at the enemy. 

98 Laterally. On the side. 

102 Aperture. Opening. 

102 Obviates. Does away with, removes. 

139 Diffident. Lacking confidence in one's self. 

140 Formidable. Alarming. 

141 Influx. A flowing in. 
155 Dormant. Sleeping. 
164 Sepulture. Burial. 

215 Improvidence. Carelessness of the future. 

243 Stratagem. Plot, trick. 

251 Catlin. (1796-1872.) A painter who spent eight years travel- 
ing among the Indians and painted over four hundred full-length por- 
traits of them. 

274 Superannuated. Too old for work. 

2,2,2) Cadaverous. Pale and ghastly. 

339 Inviolable sanctuary. A sacred place free from invasion. 

359 Instigating. Spurring on. 

376 Monterey and Buena Vista. At these places the United States 
won famous victories in the Mexican War. 

389 Dubious. Dubious. 

408 Insidious. Sly, lying in wait. 

432 Rapacious. Greedy. 

432 Presumptuous. Venturesome, bold. 

447 Imminent. Threatening near at hand. 

459 Meneaska. Indian for "white man." 

521 Spanish flies. Bright green beetles, used in plasters to raise 
bhsters. 

523 Counter-irritant. An appliance to cause irritation in one part 
of the body to divert or remove that in another part. 

560 Levee. Reception. 



NOTES 431 

Chapter X — The War-Parties 

2 Trysting-day. A day appointed for the meeting or assembling 
of military followers, friends, etc. 

5 Array. A body of men prepared for battle; soldiers, troops. 

21 Partisan. Ally. 

25 Inexorable. Relentless, not to be moved by entreaty. 

72 Cupidity. Greed, avarice. 

92 Progeny. Children. , 

III Rio Grande. The contested boundary of Texas and Mexico. 
The armv suffered greatly with dysentery. 

121 High-bowed. With a high bow or arched pomt or back, such 
as Parkman described before. 

126 Mercurial. Sprightly; that is, expressmg change swiftly as 
mercury does. 

133 Flank. Border. _ 

162 Absanth. Wormwood; used to flavor the favorite drink of the 
French nation. 

163 Cacti. Tropical thorny plants that grow in dry soil. 

166 Agate and jasper. Kinds of quartz. The first is a common 
material for marbles; the second is polished and used for making into 
vases, beads, etc. 

178 Fraught. Loaded; literally worked in. 

242 Distorted. Twisted out of shape. 

249 Daguerreotyped. We would say photographed. The daguerreo- 
type was a photographic impression made on glass. 

264 Par' Heche. Rawhide. 

302 Hieroglyphics. Picture writing. ^ 

321 Chugwater. A stream which flows north into Laramie Creek. 

330 Respite. Rest, pause. r , r^ j 

377 Capuchin friar. The Capuchins were a branch of the Order 
of St. Francis. The cowl is the hood of the monk's gown. Those of 
the Capuchins were pointed, and completely covered their heads. 

388 ''Astoria:' An account of the expedition sent out in 181 1, by 
John Jacob Astor, to establish a trading-post at the mouth of the Columbia. 

394 Cosmopolitan. One who has seen varying parts of the world 
and degrees of life. . , u 

441 Ecstasy. Joy or enthusiasm so great it lifts the mmd above 
ordinary conditions. 

505 Maudlin. Foolish with too much drink. 

512 Haranguing. Declaiming noisily. 

522 Mutinied and deposed him. Refused to obey him and then re- 
moved him from command. 

556 Incensed. Angered. 

571 Opprobrious. Insulting. 

572 Recreant. Yielding, cowardly. 
671 Curtailed. Cut off. 

673 ''Free trapper.'' Not connected with any one company, but 
selling to whom he pleased. 



432 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Chapter XI — Scenes at the Camp 

26 Annals of chivalry. Records or stories of the knights of the middle 
ages who lived in war and adventures all the time. 

81 Raillery. Joking. 

98 Uncouth. Ungraceful. 

100 Obliterated. Blotted or worn out. 

102 Rakishly. Leaning over from the perpendicular, imsteady. 

114 Mature. Completely worked out. 

117 Rapacious. Greedy, grasping. 

119 Leeches. Worms once commonly used to let blood from a per- 
son who was ill or injured. 

147 Anatomy. Framework. 

194 Careering. Going at full speed. 

204 King Philip. Chief of the okanokets of Massachusetts, who 
made war on the colonists in 1 675-1 676. 

205 Tecumseh. Chief of the Shawnees in Ohio, a leader in the 
war of 1804, which was ended at the battle of Tippecanoe, won by 
General Harrison, afterwards President of the United States. 

242 Tenure. Right of holding. 

246 Ingratiates. Makes a favorite of himself. 

259 Rankling. Always ready to break out again, like a sore. 

280 Rancorous. Full of malice. 

282 Aggression. Unprovoked attack. 

282 Retaliation. Returning of like for like. 

289 Lethargy. State of lazy indifference and inaction. 

308 Infested. Overrun, bothered by. 

313 Pertinacity. Persistency. 

329 Semper paratus. Always ready. 

331 Nestor. In the Homeric legend of the Iliad a king of Pylos, 
oldest of the Greeks before Troy, whose advice was always sought. 

335 Conversant. Well acquainted. 

338 Mien. Manner. 

343 Sachem. Chief. 

380 Le Borgne. French for "The One-Eyed. " 

396 Politic. Crafty, tactful. 

411 Impunity. Safety from punishment. 

427 Daunted. Courage subdued, dismayed. 

442 Preconcerted. Planned beforehand. 

576 Dilated. Expanded, swelled. Here it means the pupils of the 
eyes were unnaturally big. 

638 Pomme blanches. French for "white apples." They are a 
kind of wild turnip. 

670 Salvator Rosa. (161 5-1 673.) An Italian painter who lived for 
months with robbers to get subjects for his pictures. He is famed for 
his landscapes. 

675 Equestrian. Mounted on horseback. 

685 Vatican. In the Vatican gallery at Rome are the most famous 
sculptures of the world. 



NOTES 433 

692 Pythian Apollo. A Greek god who stood for manly beauty. 

693 West. Benjamin West (1738-1820), a well-known early Ameri- 
can painter, known for his historical paintings. 

694 Belvidere. The Apollo Belvidere, a very famous and lovely 
old Greek statue of Apollo just having shot an arrow from his bow. 

753 Exemplary. Setting a good example. 
762 Pertinacious. Damaging, dangerous. 
771 Lassitude. Weariness through weakness. 

Chapter XII — Ill-Luck 

I "One touch;' etc. From "Marmion," by Sir Walter Scott. 
(1771-1832), a famous Scotch novelist and poet. 

3 Croupe. That part of a horse just back of the saddle. 

62 Pike's Peak. A famous peak of the Rocky Mountains, 14,14° 
feet high. 

145 Venison. The flesh of the deer. 

Chapter XIII — Hunting Indians 

I '/ tread," etc. From "The Hermit," a poem by Oliver Gold- 
smith, an English writer of the middle part of the eighteenth century 
(1728-1774). He is famous for his essays, dramas, and his one novel, 
"The Vicar of Wakefield," as well as for his poems, of which "The 
Deserted Village" is perhaps the most widely known. 

88 Leather stocking. The famous hunter who is the hero of Cooper's 
series of novels called "The Leatherstocking Tales," of which 'The 
Last of the Mohicans" is one. 

204 Resinous. Like resin, the "pitch" of pine trees. 

232 Mount Laramie. The highest peak in the range of the Black 
Hills, toward which Parkman was going. 

290 Disproportionate. Out of proportion. Parkman means he 
had not yet learned to yield to obstacles that his strength was not equal 
to overcoming. 

360 Sublimity. Sublime grandeur. 

399 Belles-lettres. Literature. 

400 Sea-coal. A big soft coal, burned in grates. 

407 Apennines. The haze of these Italian mountains is famed for 
its loveliness and well-known by the paintings of the old Italian artists. 

424 Benignant. Kindly, gracious. 

428 Augury. Omen; a foretelling of events by signs. 

536 Succulent. Juicy. 

542 League. About three miles. 

556 Decoy. Something set up 10 lead into danger. 

784 Amphitheatre. An open place with sloping sides around it. 
The word meant originally the theatre of the Greeks which was open 
and had tiers of seats all about it. 

837 Genius loci. Latin for the nature or the spirit of the place. 

849 Frascati's. A famous Italian restaurant in London. 

849 Trois Freres Provencaux. A Paris restaurant. 



434 THE OREGON TRAIL 

852 Tom Crawford. Owner of the Crawford House in Crawford 
Notch, named after his grandfather. 

912 ^' Surround.^' To come around the buffalo on all sides and kill 
them in their confusion. 

945 Vanguard. The soldiers who go in advance of the army; here 
the foothills of the mountains. 

Chapter XIV — The Ogallallah Village 

13 Domesticated. Living in the home. 

123 Cavalierly. In a high-handed fashion, as the knights and cava- 
liers of old took what they wanted. 

184 Artillery. Weapons of war. 

200 Apex. Tip. 

265 Odium. Blame. 

302 Discriminating. Able to tell slight differences. 

411 Concentric circle. A circle within a circle, but having the same 
center. 

434 Tacitly. Silently. 

456 Profile. The ridge of the hill. 

481 Deference. Respectful yielding. 

524 '' Et haec'" etc. "Perchance it may be pleasant hereafter to 
remember these things," a line from the ^neid of Virgil, the great Latin 
poet. 

591 Solacing. Comforting. 

626 Taos. An old Mexican town some fifty miles north of Santa Fe. 
It was of much importance at the time Parkman wrote. 

627 Ecclesiastical dignitary. A high official of a church. 
642 Bravado. Spirit of boasting. 

706 Paunch. Stomach. 

712 Extempore. Without preparation. 

742 Oracle. Something regarded as always correct in its guidance. 

833 Expedition. Haste. 

Chapter XV — The Hunting Camp 

I " The Perse,'' etc. From " Chevy Chase," an old English ballad. 

The Percy out of Northumberland 

And a vow to God made he, 
That he would hunt in the mountains 

Of Cheviot within days three, 
In spite of doughty Douglas 

And all that ever with him be. 

133 Girthed. Bound around the horse's body and passing over the 
middle of his back to give the rider something he could grip with his leg. 
330 Pantomime. Actions that tell a story without any speech. 
372 Digression. A turning aside from the main path or theme. 
379 Prodigies. Unusual, extraordinary events. 
418 Initiated. Instructed, 



NOtES 435 

438 Credulity. Belief on slight evidence, and so easily imposed 
upon. 

472 Sancho Panza. The pet squire of Don Quixote in Cervantes' 
famous novel. He followed the knight's example in refusing to pay his 
bill at an inn, which his insane master took for a lordly castle, and was 
tossed in a blanket. 

507 "Fremont's Expedition." An account of the route to the 
Pacific Coast, surveyed in 1842, by General Fremont under government 
orders. 

521 '^ Fire-medicine." The "medicine man" of the Indians was 
supposed to be gifted with magic powers. 

618 Hells. The so-called "gambling hells," rooms or houses used 
for all kinds of gambling games. 

624 Orgies. Wild revelry. 

656 Dolorous. Sorrowful, doleful. 

665 Kearney's army. In the Mexican War. See the opening para- 
graph in Chapter XXVI. 

701 Precocious. Too forward, developed beyond the natural limit 
of one's age. 

745 Braggart. One fond of boasting. 

Chapter XVI — The Trappers 

1 "Ours the wild life," etc. From "The Corsair," by Lord Byron. 
28 Bent's Fort. A famous trading-post in south-eastern Colorado. 
45 Howitzer. A short, light cannon that throws heavy shot with 

small charge. 

164 Basilisk. A mythical serpent whose look changed one into 
stone. 

184 Trolling. Singing loud and free. 

228 "A great deal of laughter." Apparently an attempt to quote 
from Goldsmith's "Vicar of Wakefield": "and what the conversation 
wanted in wit was made up in laughter." 

280 Neutrality. The state of watching a contest without being en- 
gaged on either side. 

297 Pugnacious. Eager for a fight. 

383 Convened. Called together. 

Chapter XVII — The Black Hills 

44 Beetling. Hanging out. 

55 Indefatigable. Unwearying. 

85 Assented. This should be "consented." 

105 Pinnacles. Pointed peaks. 

Chapter XVIII — A Mountain Hunt 

2 Dappled. An animal's skin marked or dotted with spots. 

3 Burghers. Freemen, citizens. 

21 Awl and buffalo -sinews. The lodges were seamed together by 
I unching holes in the leather and tying it together with the tough sinews. 



436 THE OREGON TRAIL 

41 Galled. Vexed, chafed. 

57 Redoubtable. Formidable, known for strength and power. 

62 Shingly. Covered with loose gravel and pebbles, water-worn. 

98 Transparency. Parkman is here likening the thick foliage of the 
trees to the colored panes of glass we have in windows or us 3 for lamp- 
shades. 

99 Halcyon. Peaceful and happy. 

124 Witch-hazel rod. It was supposed that some people had the 
power of discovering hidden metals or water b holding a Y-shaped 
witch-hazel twig by the short ends out in front of them. When they were 
directly over the right place to dig the twig would turn and point to the 
ground. 

293 Flesh his maiden scalping knife. Kill a man with his still unused 
knife. 

343 Domicile. Home. 

360 Pungent. Sharp, stinging. 

365 Repartee. Ready reply. 

437 Succor. Aid. 

443 Astrologer. One who pretends to read the future through the 
study of the stars. 

Chapter XIX — Passage of the Mountains 

24 Defiling. Marching in a narrow line. 

45 Rapacious Plundering, thieving. 

45 Rapacious. Plundering, thieving. 

45 Avarice. The desire for wealth merely to hoard it. 

133 Aerial. High in the air. 

149 Nom de guerre. French for name of war; an assumed name. 

228 Genius. Spirit, air, appearance. 

238 St. Peter's. The cathedral of St. Peter's at Rome, the largest 
church in the world. 

243 Mount Etna. The famous active volcano on the Island of 
Sicily. 

247 Passionisl convent. Attached to the old Church of St. John and 
St. Peter in Rome. 

252 Coliseum. The old Roman amphitheatre which would hold 
eighty thousand people; it is now in ruins. 

252 Eternal City. The City of Rome. 

253 Splugen. A pass in the Alps between Italy and Switzerland. 
255 The Rhine. Above Basel in the Alps the Rhine is full of rapids 

and falls. 

258 Andeer. A settlement on the upper Rhine. 

336 Philanthropists. Literally "Lovers of Man"; used of people 
noted for charity and charitable reforms. 

337 Millennium. A thousand years, especially those mentioned in 
Revelations during which righteousness is to triumph in the world be- 
fore the final judgment day; used to indicate the better days for which 
reformers strive. 



NOTES 437 

656 Dishabille. Careless, loose dress; usually meaning some sort 
of a dressing gown. 

669 Byron. Called the worst because of the wild life he led. 

Chapter XX — The Lonely Journey 

I Antres. Caves or caverns. 

83 Mr. Mackenzie and Captain Wyeth. Alexander Mackenzie 
and Nathaniel J. Wyeth of Boston were among the first to cross the Rocky 
Mountains into Oregon, both with the idea of connecting the ports of 
the east with those of the northwest. 

168 Orthodox. Proper, accepted, customary. 

169 Apocryphal. Of uncertain authority; used first of the books 
which are of too uncertain origin to be admitted into the Bible proper. 

171 Whimsical. Funny and odd. 

175 Gamboling. Frisking. 

177 Presumption. Guess. 

187 Raw. Without vegetation; worn to the bare rock. 

265 Pueblo. The present city in Colorado, on the Arkansas River. 

344 Kearneys march. This was a march of sixteen days to Santa 
Fe, which Kearney occupied August 18, 1846, and where he established 
a provisional government. 

346 Matamoras. Another United States victory, farther west, 
following on those of Palo Alta and Resaca de la Palma. 

363 Ponchos. A Spanish-American cloak in the form of a blanket 
with a slit in the middle for the head to go through. 

372 Daff. Lay. 

402 Paganini. A famous violinst of the time who played one selec- 
tion called "Napoleon," on the G string alone. 

419 Mettle. Spirit, courage. 

421 Tutelary. Guardian. 

446 Passports. Permissions to pass through foreign countries. 

502 Marmots. Gnawing animals that live in the Alps; used also 
as a name for the ])rairie dog. 

521 Subterranean. Underground. 

567 Long's Peak. A peak in the Colorado Rockies, 14,270 feet 
high. 

580 Scylla and Charybdis. In the Straits of Messina is a dangerous 
reef and terrible whirlpool close together. Ancient sailors thought it 
almost impossible to sail between them safely. 

618 Saint Patrick. The patron saint of Ireland who, as tradition 
says, freed the island of snakes. 

631 Sweating lodges. Nearly all American tribes had some fonn of 
a dug-out chamber where a tire 'was always left burning, and where the 
men met for religious, social and council purposes. 

644 M. St. Vrain. Monsieur St. Vrain was a partner in the fur 
trade of the Bent who built Bent's Fort. 

694 Portentous. Fearful and threatening. 

746 Des sauvages. French for "The savages." 



438 THE OREGON TRAIL 

742 Reconnoitre. A military term, to examine ahead carefully in 
order to determine the next move. 

779 Their hand is against them. The prophecy of Jehovah against 
the Ishmaelites. 

795 Sky of Naples. Famed for its blueness. 

796 Capri. An island at the mouth of the Bay of Naples. 
803 "Lo Fontaine qui Bouille." The boiling fountain. 

Chapter XXI — The Pueblo and Bent's Fort 

I Address Prepare to start out. 

4 Glaive. Sword. 

^;^ Horse-pistol. A big pistol carried in holsters by horsemen. 

44 Turkish fashion. Instead of using chairs the Turks always sit 
cross-legged on cushons or sofas. 

58 Bowie-knife. A large sheath knife used by frontiersmen. It had 
a one-edged blade and a short handle. 

158 Nauvoo. The place in Illinois from which the Mormons were 
driven in 1845, to settle in Utah. 

198 Run the gauntlet. To risk a series of unpleasant events. 

237 Rowel. The sharp-pointed wheel fastened to the side of the 
spur. 

25s Yager. An old rifle carried by the light infantry, unmounted 
troops. 

Chapter XXII — Tete Rouge, the Volunteer 

I ''Ah we," etc. From "Hudibras," by Samuel Butler, an Eng- 
lish poet (161 2 — 1680). 

15 Mint-juleps. A favorite drink in the South, especially in Ken- 
tucky, flavored with sprigs of mint. 

29 Abortive. Useless, comi g to no end. 

30 Tete Rouge. Red-head. 

46 Vera Cruz. A seaport in Mexico, on the southwestern shore of 
the Gulf of Mexico. The distance between Vera Cruz and New Orleans 
is about eight hundred miles. 

62 Calomel. A powerful medicine containing mercury, and danger- 
ous if used in large quantities. 

92 Draft. Heavy working horses. 

124 Quarter -master's. The quarter-master is the officer in charge 
of quarters, provisions and transportation for troops. 

Chapter XXIII — Indian Alarms 

c "To all,'' etc. Quoted from "Old Mortality," a novel by Sir 
Walter Scott. 

73 Anathemas. Ban or curse, originally pronounced by the church. 

84 Emaciated. Grow thin and week. 

171 Regale. To feast. 

256 Maxwell. This trade was with Fremont on the expedition which 
surveyed the route to the Pacific. He was supposed to be the best 
authority on the Indians of the plains. 



NOTES 439 

288 Sinister. Evil. 

361 Colloquy. Conference. 

369 Immobility. Stillness, being immovable. 

444 Asseverations. Positive statements, assertions of truth. 

Chapter XXIV — The Chase 

29 Novice. Beginner. 

79 Honey-comhed. Full of holes like a honey-comb, covered by a 
shell of earth. 

89 Infallibly. Without fail. 

105 Kit Carson. A famous trapper for whom Carson City, Nevada, 
is named. 

173 Canteen. The flattened, circular bottle, made of tin, and cloth- 
covered, which the soldier straps over his shoulder for holding drink. 

209 "Owt, bien charge.'^ Yes, well loaded. 

210 "C'est un ban fusil." It is a good gun. 

314 Squib. A ball filled with gun powder and exploded in the air 
or along the ground. 

Chapter XXV — The Buffalo Camp 

5 Antipathy. Natural opposition in disposition or feeling. 

15 Expletives. Words not a necessary grammatical part of the 
sentence, here oaths. 

55 Tenacious. Holding fast. 

66 Invincible. Not to be conquered. 

132 Coursing. Running. 

202 Runnel. A tiny stream of water. 

313 Nelson. Lord Nelson, the English Admiral, who at the naval 
battle of Trafalgar in 1805, hoisted on the "Victory," "England this day 
expects every man to do his duty." He was killed in this battle. 

363 Etoft. A famous boys' school in England. 

364 Parson. An Englishman; a famous Greek scholar. 

365 Fleet Street. A London street of little shops. 

366 Chesterfield. Philip Dormer Stanhope, Earl of Chesterfield; 
a famous man of fashion. 

377 Sherry cobblers. A kind of drink. 

387 Jester. Half-witted men were kept in old-time courts to amuse 
the nobles, and were known as jesters. They were the butt of jokes, 
although they were usually bright enough to return the jest, whether by- 
word or deed. 

387 Feudal castle. A castle of the Middle Ages, when all Europe 
was in the hands of hundreds of petty lords and nobles, who ruled ab- 
solutely over their own domains and lived in fortified castles for protec- 
tion against their neighbors. 

593 Rubicund. Reddish. 

408 Inveterate. Habitual. 

471 Arrears. Debt. 

614 Carrion. Rotting flesh. 



440 THE OREGON TRAIL 

Chapter XXVI — Down the Arkansas 

I " They quitted,''^ etc. From Sir Walter Scott's narrative poerri, 
"The Lay of the Last Minstrel." 

4 Corselet. The upper part of the armor which protected the chest 
and body. 

5 Buckler. A round shield. 

13 Cimarron. The river which rises in the Raton Mountains and 
flows into the Arkansas, a longer way than the one chosen by General 
Kearney. 

15 Price's. Sterling Price, Congressman from Missouri in 1845-6, 
colonel of a regiment under Kearney. 

22 Subordination. Obedience. 

22 Criterion. Sta dard or rule for judging the value of a thing. 

27 Precedent. Example; previous act that may serve as a rule for 
a later one. 

31 Doniphan. Alexander W., a colonel in the Mexican War, who 
marched, in spite of many hardships, from New Mexico to Chihuaha, 
and on February 23, 1847, defeated a Mexican force, outnumbering him 
four to one, at the narrow pass of Sacramento. 

39 Mancenvers. Planned military movements. 

102 Carbines. Firearms half-way between the pistol and musket 
in size, made in Springfield, Mass. 

120 Rustic. Rude, unpolished. 

129 Surmised. Guessed. 

135 Concise. Brief. 

168 Obsequious. Yielding, meek. 

309 Puerile. Childish. 

438 Perturbation. Anxiety, uneasiness. 

464 Adamantine. Hard as adamant, a mythical stone of unbreak- 
able hardness. 

702 Nocturnal. Coming by night. 

Chapter XXVII — The Settlements 

156 Fusillade. The discharge all at once of many firearms. 

219 Attenuated. Shrunken. 

234 Fiat. Command. 

240 Consummate. To carry out, accomplish. 

251 Exuberant. Abundant, over plenty. 

282 Coveys. Broods. 

308 Kansas Landing. Now Kansas City. 

361 Sutler's. A sutler is one who follows an army and sells pro- 
visions and liquor to soldiers. 

381 Vagabond. One who wanders about without a home or honest 
trade. 



OEC 28 1912 



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